


Kissed by the Devil & Saved by an Angel

by Casazael



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, F/M, M/M, will add more characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:20:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 152,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casazael/pseuds/Casazael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective/Crime AU in Dortmund. Some of my favourite footballers will be detectives and crime scene examiners working for the police department, while others will work for another group that also aims to eliminate crimes and uphold justice, just in a slightly different manner :) Most parts of the story will be told from Marco's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Case 0 - the Revenge of Satan

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in this fandom and actually my first fanfic in English, not that I write a lot of fics to start with. English is not my first language nor am I an English or literature major by any means. I also don't have a beta... So I fully expect this to be filled with awkward expressions and typos and please bear with me.
> 
> I've got this idea about my favourite players in an AU of crime and police, etc for a while. Since it's quite hard to find fics about some of my favourite players and pairings (you can take a guess as to who they may be :), I decided to write one myself. I've got the general plot more or less thought out but I tend to digress quite often when I write so I'm not entirely sure if I can finish this (or if anyone would be interested in seeing it finished). I know next to nothing about German and British police and legal system, as I have never lived in either countries before. I did some research before I start writing this but I have to take literary liberties whenever necessary, which is most of the time unfortunately. At least I hope the story will be interesting enough that you will forgive my many factual errors and plot holes.
> 
> Last but not the least, disclaimers: As much as I'd love to, I do not know any of these people in real life. This is purely a fictional story with fictional representations about these people for my personal entertainment and bears no resemblance to any true events in their lives.

_ 3 months ago _

 

_ An enormous mansion stood in the beautiful suburb of Herdecke, one of those tranquil high-end neighbourhoods. Even though the weather outside was wretched, with thunder and lightning striking through the night sky, the inhabitants of Abramovich Manor was hardly troubled. In fact, they seemed to be quite enjoying themselves. Mr Andrei Abramovich, the owner of the manor, was a tall balding man in his mid 50s currently in his boxers. He was eagerly feeling his young companion up in his lavish bedroom and so engaged in this activity that he failed to notice the noise of the bedroom window open, muffled by the thunder. His companion was still in his late teens with a fresh angular face, dark almond-shaped eyes, full sensual lips, and luscious dark hair in a comb over style. He had the perfect view of the window but seemed utterly unsurprised to find an intruder in the house. _

 

_ The intruder was dressed quite unoriginally in all-black, with tight T-shirt and tracksuit trousers that highlighted his amazing physique, and a balaclava that covered his whole face except his piercing blue eyes. Despite his height, he managed to climb through the window with surprising ease and grace. When he pulled out his Glock 22, as if on cue, Andrei’s young companion threw him off with surprising strength and speed and rushed off the bed to get out of the line of fire. Unfortunately, Andrei was not too slow himself either, now that he was free of distractions. During the chaos that ensued, Andrei managed to drag the young boy in front of him and the bullet fired by the intruder went straight into the young boy’s right shoulder. Crying out in pain, the young boy almost collapsed to the floor. Using him as a human shield, Andrei began to slowly retreat to the door. _

_ “Who are you and what do you want?” Andrei asked, his grey eyes locked with the intruders’ blue ones. “Your accomplice has been shot, the little bitch!” He held tighter to the young boy and put deliberate pressure into his right shoulder. The boy let out another cry of anguish, his young face now contorted with pain. The intruder remained silent and betrayed no emotion in his deep blues eyes. Andrei continued his negotiation. “If you want money, you can take whatever is in the nightstand drawer. It should be enough so your little bitch can quit being a prostitute and be a proper student. I will let you go and since I don’t even know what you look like, the police will never know.” _

_ Upon hearing this, the intruder actually took off his balaclava to reveal a very handsome face with a cleft chin. Andrei’s face, however, had turned pale. When the intruder spoke, there was a faint accent in his German. “Unfortunately Mr Andrei Abramovich, I’m afraid money is not enough to give me what I want from you. Naturally, you seem confused. But don’t worry. Let me enlighten you with a little story of my past. My father passed away when I was only 7 years old. After that tragic incident, I was raised by my mother and my aunt Wiktoria. I had always been very close with Wiktoria, who was beautiful, smart, strong, and reminded me so much of my father. She was always around the house, helping my mother with housework and looking after my sister and me. She even delayed her own marriage to help the family. When I was 13 years old, Wiktoria finally married her long-time Bosnian boyfriend and they moved to Bosnia and Herzegovina, a newly-independent country free of war and conflicts, to find their happily ever after. That was the last time I ever heard from her. The authority told us that she disappeared soon after she moved there but nobody bothered to investigate the case because it was happening literally every day. It wasn’t until 3 years later that we got the first piece of news about her. Do you know what happened to her?” His voice was calm, but the looks in his startlingly blue eyes were enough to scare anyone and one could hardly blame Andrei for trembling from head to toe, shaking his head vigorously in denial. _

_ The intruder let out a mirthless laugh, “Now you’re catching on, aren’t you Mr Abramovich? You see, in a country that recently gained its independence and freedom, a lot of reconstruction work was needed to bring the place to its former glory. Seeing that the nascent government was inexperienced and in need of proper guidance, the international community offered to help. What a generous gesture! As more and more service providers and contracting companies entered Bosnia, more opportunities were brought in, especially for a particular kind of service. And who would be better, easier, and more suited to provide such services than the hapless local women?” For the first time of the entire night, his voice cracked with emotion, and Andrei’s face could have been that of a ghost. “Wiktoria was kidnapped and trafficked into prostitution. She had always been feisty and would never give up without putting up a real fight. So they drugged her, repeatedly until she finally surrendered. They broke her completely, my beautiful strong aunt, and she lost her mind and her will to live. She died two years later.” His voice now barely louder than a whisper, “And you wonder how I know about this, when it was such a well-kept open secret that it cost Kathryn Bolkovac her job to expose it. Well, one of the girls managed to escape that hellhole Wiktoria was in and she came to find me. She told me that Wiktoria kept telling her to find me, even after she lost her mind. She could not even die in peace because she knew she had to let me know. So I knew. And I vowed to myself and to God that I would never rest until I track down every single man, woman, and child who had anything to do with the sordid business. I will seek my vengeance, even if I have to trade my soul with Satan himself to get there. So here I am, Satandowski as they called me, finally ready to avenge myself and Wiktoria.” _

_ Andrei made a jerky motion and dragged the young boy even closer to him, attempting to cover every part of his body with his human shield. As he scrambled back to the bedroom door, frantically trying to stay out of the way of Satandowski, the door opened. In the split second it took for Andrei to turn his head to see who the newcomer was, his grip on the boy loosened, which was a deadly mistake on his part. The young boy took the chance to duck to his right, as the bullet from Satandowski’s Glock 22 shot Andrei straight in the chest. Looking down in disbelief, Andrei almost missed the anxious voice of the newcomer, “Lewy the Kid is a mess. We have to get him to the Angel now!”, the faint cry of pain from the young boy (or the Kid as he was known to his partners), and the shuffling noises behind him. But the last thing Andrei Abramovich heard before total darkness engulfed him was the cold clear voice of Satandowski: “Go to hell and stay there to burn!” _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I purposefully did not include the identity of the Kid in the Characters. I thought it would be fun for people to guess who he is before I reveal his identity in later chapters (if I ever get to that point that is). I tried my best to describe his physical appearances but probably failed quite miserably. Here are some hints: he's a very young footballer who just shot into mainstream football this past season. He's also affiliated with one of the clubs that the other characters are in.
> 
> I also hope I did not misrepresent any fact about the Bosnian war and the post-war human trafficking issues there. Kathryn Bolkovac was the whistleblower and was dismissed unfairly as a result. The film "the Whistleblower" was based on her story and I recommend anyone interested in this matter to check it out. Naturally it was a very dark and depressing film, but Rachel Weisz's performance was nothing short of excellent.
> 
> And of course Andrei Abramovich was an original character, but I guess most of you can guess who he's related to :)
> 
> Kudos and comments are highly appreciated :)


	2. Welcome to CID of Dortmund Police

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Criminal Investigative Division (CID) of Dortmund Police had welcomed some new guests. Roman and Kehli were not thrilled but İlkay seemed to find the whole situation quite entertaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Sergio and Iker for their cameo appearances :) Again this was not beta-ed so please forgive any mistakes.

When Marco finally managed to drag himself out of bed, he was pretty sure he was doomed to be late today, which never sat very well with Roman, being the typical punctual German and all that. Especially not today, since today was the day when they were to welcome the newcomers. Marco could clearly picture Roman’s annoyed scowl but he simply couldn’t bring himself to care until he’d had two cups of coffee. So when he walked into the office, he wasn’t expected to see Roman seething with anger. Seriously, he was only 5 minutes late and there was absolutely no reason for Roman to be so worked up about it, is there? He soon found out that he was hardly responsible for his boss’ bad temper this morning.

 

“So you’re telling me that in addition to playing translator to a bunch of Brits, I have to babysit a 23-year-old university graduate?! This is a police department, not a circus! Do you have any idea how many open cases we have? Including the murder of Andrei Abramovic! A murder of a prominent member of the city, in Dortmund, right under my nose! Now 3 months have passed and we still haven’t found the culprit behind it! I don’t have time for all this bullshit!” The tall Chief Inspector of Criminal Investigative Division (CID) was heard yelling at his boss, Jürgen Klopp, the Detective Superintendent of Dortmund Police.

 

“First of all, the murder took place in Herdecke, not Dortmund. Of course they have solicited our help in the matter but we’re hardly the main responsible party for solving the case. Secondly, I happen to remember that you frequently referred to Mr Abramovich as, and I quote, ‘a fat greedy Russian wanker who’s never earned a single penny fairly in his life and thus a complete disgrace to the human race’, only 6 months ago.” Roman’s face had turned so red that Marco was convinced that he must have bursted all the blood vessels in his face simultaneously to render such an effect. Jürgen, on the other hand, was clearly unfazed by Roman’s outburst and continued on with perfect composure. “While I appreciate your change of attitude towards Mr Abramovich and your sentiment towards his tragic demise, his case is quite irrelevant to our discussion. Besides,” Jürgen raised his voice slightly as Roman showed every sign of interrupting, “the new officers are not a bunch of Brits. Only one of them is actually British.”

 

“And that makes the situation so much better of course!” Roman retorted sarcastically, his face now threatening a delicate shade of puce. Marco had always admired how easy it was to rile Roman up, but he usually kept that to himself.

 

“Actually it does. Because one of them is German and can speak perfect German. Unfortunately he’s a Schalke fan, but that’s neither here nor there.” Roman actually snorted to this remark. Marco meanwhile, was wondering if it was a good idea to throw a Schalke fan amongst a group of die-hard Dortmund supporters. Then he remembered that his best friend Mats used to be a Bayern fan before he switched his loyalty to the Schwarzgelben (thanks to his positive influence, Marco mused with immense satisfaction). So he figured this new chap would come around one day eventually. Lost in his thought, Marco almost missed the rest of Jürgen’s reply.

 

“... he graduated with Honours in Chemistry and even obtained a graduate degree in Forensic Science, which means he will be a useful asset when it comes to collecting and analysing evidence. Marco happens to be in need of a crime scene examiner partner, if my memory serves, so he will be Marco’s new partner.” Marco blinked at the mention of his name. It was true that he was in desperate need of a real partner. (Let’s face it, Marcel was only a patrol officer who had no interest in solving crimes and almost puked at a crime scene couple months back.) But he was still not sure if he could handle a young chemistry boffin with no field experience on a daily basis. Apparently this was not his decision to make, as Jürgen seemed to have finished his lecture and left to receive the newcomers. Roman remained silent, either because he was placated or because he was so incensed that he was rendered temporarily speechless. Marco took this opportunity to ask İlkay, his fellow detective and friend, for the part he missed. “So why the hell do we have these people from England anyway?”

 

“Some sort of exchange programme. Total bollocks if you ask me. Remember what happened last time we had those Spaniards?”

 

Marco sniggered. He remembered that only too well. Their last visitors were from Madrid and had spent three months in Dortmund. One of them, Sergio Ramos, was probably the clumsiest person anyone had ever seen. Not one single day had passed without him dropping something on the floor or tripping over somebody. During his last day in Dortmund, he managed to bump into Roman, who was talking to his Crime Section Inspector Sebastian (or Kehli, to everyone who knew him well enough), during lunch break and knocked Roman face-forward into Kehli’s soup. As he rushed forward to stop Roman from drowning in some very fine Chervil soup made by Kehli’s wife Tina, his flailing arm caught Kehli right in his nose, resulting in a spectacular nosebleed. His boss, Iker Casillas, had to wrestle with Roman to stop him from strangling Sergio. Not that Marco minded Sergio, who was incredibly warm-hearted and always the life of the party. Besides, Marco didn’t have to work with Sergio after all (poor Kehli), and Sergio had shared some very useful pieces of advice on how to maintain perfect hair even when you were in a rush. But now Marco could see why Roman was so worked up about this group of newcomers.

 

“But didn’t Roman tell Jürgen that he would have to walk over his death body to bring any more visitors? Why does Jürgen agree to this now?”

 

“Dunno. I reckon there is something dodgy going on that we have absolutely no clue about. Still, Marcel should be happy. I don’t think he wanted anything to do with us after the case two months ago. Honestly, you’d think he’d be okay about some blood after working on the crime section for a year!” İlkay sighed dramatically.

 

Marco rolled his eyes. İlkay was once a medical student who had an almost maniacal obsession with anatomy. If anyone could handle blood and guts, it was him. “Yeah but it wasn’t just some blood, was it? It was a giant pool of blood and some spilled brains. Besides, Marcel has never signed up for this in the first place. He only wants to be a patrol officer so he can go home to Jenny at the end of the day, not to be standing in a freezing cold night over some poor bloke who just got his head blown open.” Marco felt the need to defend his friend.

 

İlkay shrugged, “Either way, you are the one who get to babysit the new chap. At least they are not trying to mix us around this time, thanks to Sergio Ramos. I think Kehli still has nightmares about him.”

 

Marco laughed, “Poor Sergio, he really meant well. I never understand how he managed to pass the tests. Maybe the selection is not so rigorous in Spain.”

 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Came Kehli’s voice from behind them, making both of them jump. The older Inspector nodded solemnly to Marco and İlkay, “I think he only wanted to join so he could be with Iker. And when you have a boyfriend in the system, it tends to make things a bit easier, insider information and such,” before walking away to talk to Roman.

 

Marco whispered to İlkay, “Bet you’re right. He’s definitely still having nightmares.” İlkay, on the other hand, frowned slightly and demanded, “Sergio was going out with Iker? How come I didn’t know that?!” Marco stared at him in disbelief. “Are you having me on? Anyone with eyes could see that they were an item. And I thought you were the gossip king in the department. Blimey, you must have spent way too much time with Shinji, who basically lives in his own world, under a rock.” İlkay looked mildly offended at this statement, “Shinji happens to be my partner. And he doesn’t live in his own world. Otherwise he can’t be a bloody good crime scene examiner.” But Marco wasn’t paying him any attention now. Jürgen just walked in with five strangers behind him. They must be the newcomers.

 

After Jürgen cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention, the room fell silent. Even Marcel, who just rushed in after his morning patrolling duty, was holding his breath. Satisfied with the attention he had got, Jürgen proceeded with the introduction.

 

“Morning lads, as you can see, we have some guests here today. Four of them have come all the way from England and are here on an exchange programme. They will be staying with us for three months. They have all achieved the highest level of qualification and have been on many difficult and dangerous cases. I hope that we can all benefit from their stay here.” İlkay snickered and whispered to Marco, “last time he said the same thing and the only person who had benefitted from Sergio’s stay was Kehli’s psychiatrist.” Marco had to bite down his laughter. Jürgen gave them a stern look. “If I find out that there is any tosser here giving them a hard time, you will have me to answer to! Now without further ado, I’ll hand the floor over to these fine gentlemen so they can introduce themselves.”

 

The first one stepping forward was a young man in his mid-20s. He didn’t look English at all. In fact, Marco would say he looked somewhat middle eastern, just like İlkay. He also had somewhat bugged eyes, which combined with his shy smile, made him quite endearing. When he spoke however, there was no hint of accent in his perfect German. “Morning everyone, my name is Mesut Özil. I’m from Gelsenkirchen but went to England for university when my family decided to move there. I’m now a crime scene examiner for the London Police. I’m also going to be the communicator between you and some of my colleagues, especially at the beginning. But I’m sure their German will improve greatly that my help will become quite unnecessary.”

 

“So this is the Schalke fan. We’ll make sure he’s sorted out by the end of his stay.” İlkay whispered to Marco, Marcel, and Shinji, an evil glint in his eyes. Before any of them could comment on this tempting plan, Mesut had stepped aside to make way for the next person, whose appearance had stunned them all to silence.

 

The second officer was a tall, strapping young man with a very handsome face. This in itself would not surprise any one of them. With such a high density of young males in their 20s and 30s, you were bound to find some good-looking chaps amongst them. Kehli had his silent calming charm; İlkay had his exotic look; Marco himself didn’t look half bad, especially when he had time to deal with his hair (thanks to Sergio, the number of days of him showing up with bed hair had decreased dramatically). Not to mention Mats, who popped in and out of the office whenever they needed his legal advice. What surprised them about this officer was his seductive smile and, Marco had to blink a couple times to make sure he saw it correctly, his numerous tattoos that the short sleeves of his uniform could not cover. He wouldn’t look out of place in a rock concert, or a porn production site (not that Marco was imagining anything, thank you very much). Seeing their shocked expressions, the office smirked and had the audacity to wink at them. Marco chanced a sideway look at Roman and was unsurprised to find a vein pulsating threateningly near his temple.

 

When the officer spoke, they detected a faint French accent (“ah, no wonder! French!” murmured İlkay) in his otherwise fluent German. “Good morning my fine fellow gentlemen,” he drawled lazily with his seductive smile still plastered on his face. Kehli coughed pointedly and Roman’s face had turned from red to green. Marcel had the same look when he was out with Marco two months ago. Shinji, bless him, looked confused and puzzled. İlkay, on the other hand, was shaking with silent laughter. “My name is Olivier Giroud. I studied Psychology in university so my speciality is reading people and understanding what they need.” Another wink there. “I’m now working as a crime detective for the London Police and Mesut’s, hmm, long-time partner.” He put particular emphasis on the word “partner”, making Mesut blush. Kehli was looking up silently at the ceiling, as if praying for some sort of miracle that would take him away from this circus show. Jürgen was turning his gaze purposeful away from Roman and İlkay actually had to clutch at Shinji’s shoulder to prevent himself from doubling over with laughter. Clearly satisfied with the reactions he had got, Olivier took a little bow and stepped away to stand next to the still blushing Mesut.

 

The third officer was even taller, though lankier than Olivier. He had a big bright smile on his face and looked like he was ready to jump up and down with excitement. In fact, he reminded Marco of a golden retriever, especially with his tall frame and blond hair. When he spoke, it was clear that he was the only Brit Jürgen was referring to. “Morning lads, I’m Joe Hart, or Harty if you prefer. Detective by day footballer by night. Anyone needs a goalie on their team?” He asked hopefully. “Excellent! Roman is getting too old for the game anyway.” İlkay shouted from the crowd, making Roman scowl and everybody else laugh. Joe beamed and air fived İlkay.

 

Amongst everyone’s laughter and teasing of Roman, hardly anyone noticed the next officer who had stepped forward quietly. He was the smallest of them all, with dark hair falling casually into his slightly slanted eyes. Marco was no big man himself so he knew too well not to judge people by their appearances. But even he thought this officer looked almost too frail and delicate to be a police officer, let alone one in the CID. He also had an exotic look, the origin of which Marco couldn’t quite place. When Marco looked into those deep charcoal black eyes, he could sense the calmness and confidence radiating from them. When he spoke, like Joe, he chose to speak in English. “Good morning everyone. I’m David Silva, forensic and crime science master and crime scene examiner with Joe. Specialises in evidence gathering and research, data analysis. Muay Thai and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu black belt. Fully trained in combatives and short-range weapons.” Despite his accent, which was most likely Spanish, he spoke with perfect clarity and composure. Marco saw Kehli and Jürgen nodding approvingly at David. Roman sighed with relief and muttered, “Someone competent at last!”, his face finally turned to its usual colour. When David walked next to Joe, Joe put a protective arm around David’s shoulder and looked at him with pride and fondness. David returned his gaze with his calm smile and Marco suddenly understood. He cursed in his mind as the office was slowly being filled with happy couples while his love life was still a mess. He briefly entertained the idea of having a drink with someone after work so he could complain about his love life or the lack thereof but dismissed it almost immediately. Mats was in the middle of a big case (why Mats was involved in some sort of messy inheritance case was completely beyond Marco) and couldn’t get out of his office until well past dinner time, by which time Marco would have finished drinking and moping anyway. His other best friend Neven, an emergency physician, was a night owl and always chose the evening or night shift, making it next to impossible to catch him during the week. İlkay, on the other hand, usually had time but would only take the mickey out of him for not having been laid for so long. Sometimes Marco really hated his life.

 

When the last one from the newbie group had finally stood in front of them, everyone was growing a little tired from this introduction. You could only take so much excitement in one day. This new youngster really was a kid. He looked like he was barely 20 and freshly out of university. Feeling everyone’s gaze upon him, he flushed slightly but puffed out his chest, a determined look in his green blue eyes. “Hello everyone, my name is Erik Durm and I recently graduated from forensic science graduate programme. I’m new here but I would like to stay here and contribute to the team, as we tackle the crimes and make Dortmund a better place.” He said in perfect German, looking almost defiantly at everyone. Roman’s expression softened and Kehli smiled at him in a rather fatherly manner. Jürgen clapped his hands enthusiastically.

 

“Well done everyone and welcome to your new team.  Like I said earlier, Erik will partner up with Marco.” Marcel sighed audibly with relief. “But we will also start mixing the locals with the guests a bit. Marco and Erik, you lads will work with Joe and David on any cases you get. İlkay and Shinji, you get Mesut and Olivier.” Jürgen seemed to have regretted his team assignment instantly, as İlkay looked like Christmas had come early. Figuring that nothing could be done anyway, he merely shrugged and continued, “Officers from England will report to Roman directly and everyone else reports to Sebastian as always. Now, since you don’t have any big cases now, I suggest you take the time to get to know your new teammates and make the guests feel at home.” With that, he hastened to leave the office, Roman hot on his heels, clearly getting ready to either complain or gossip about these newcomers. Kehli smiled warmly at the newcomers and waved them closer to show them to their respective desks. Shinji, looking forever lost outside his laboratory, wandered away to get coffee. Marcel bounced happily towards Marco and İlkay.

  
“Finally I’m out of this mess! Now I just need to do my patrol duties and go home at 6 every night. Jenny will be so thrilled! I’m going to miss you guys though! But we can still catch up for coffee or something, in a place free of blood and nasties.” Then he actually hugged Marco and squealed, “I’m ringing Jenny right now to tell her the great news!” With that he left them clutching his phone, clearly intending to waste no time in making that important phone call. Marco sighed, half amused half exasperated, but feeling happy for his friend nonetheless. When he looked at İlkay, he saw the familiar mischievous look in his eyes, “Wanna bet who’s the first to drive Roman up the wall? My money is on the French peacock!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My face is currently buried in my hands. I'm so sorry İlkay, for making you so OOC! Believe me it wasn't my intention when I first started writing. But it just sort of went that way... 
> 
> I'll try my best to make everyone more or less in-character, even though it's an AU. It's going to be challenging for some of the Dortmund players because I only started following them this year and I don't speak German, which makes watching their interviews a bit difficult. But I'll try.
> 
> Kudos, comments, and suggestions are always welcome :)


	3. When Mats Met Neven, and More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco went out to dinner with the newbies and bumped into Mats and Neven. We get to know a little bit more about everyone's background and the love story of Mats and Neven. Some David and Joe, some Mesut and Olivier, and some Erik and Neven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the Mats and Neven story is a bit angsty. I simply don't see a way to find them a happy ending now. Maybe I'll dedicate a separate story to them so we can get to know more about their history at those happier times.

After the excitement of the morning, the rest of the day passed rather quickly and uneventfully. Like Jürgen said, there wasn’t any big case for them at the moment. Of course Roman would disagree and lecture to anyone who would listen how many unsolved cases there were and how they should help their neighbouring cities whenever possible. But those unsolved cases were all fairly routine and they had enough to deal with without extra helping from the other police departments. İlkay and Shinji left before lunch when Marcel phoned them for help on a hit-and-run case. Marco, on the other hand, got to spend his day in the office, interviewing a bunch of university students who were found in a party with controlled substances and catching up on his case reports.

 

Marco didn’t get to see his new partner nor any of the English officers until after 6 in the afternoon, when they finally finished their tour of the department and the orientation. They must be impressed by the laboratory facility in the department, if the satisfied looks on Mesut, David, and Erik’s face were anything to go by. Remembering Jürgen’s word, Marco figured that he might as well ask them to have dinner with him, since he didn’t have anyone else to go to dinner with anyway (damn his friends and their jobs). Just as he was rising from his seat to greet the group, İlkay stormed into the office with Shinji trailing behind him, looking almost murderous. Marco quirked his eyebrow and looked at the pair questioningly. İlkay burst out, “Those gormless gits didn’t even have the brain to preserve the scene. How many times do I have to tell them?! Now we have to scrape up any evidence that they haven’t managed to cock up and try to come up with a story about the incident. Mind you, there wasn’t a lot left. Worse than that, one of the witnesses was an absolute hag. She must be old enough to be my mother.” “She’s in her early 30s.” Shinji murmured next to İlkay but he ignored this comment altogether. “And she was batting her fake eyelashes at me the whole time I was interviewing her. How I want to tell her to get lost! Unless we can find anything useful from the evidence we gathered, we have to go interview her again tomorrow!” sighed İlkay, “Well, we better get to work and see if we will have any luck. I have no intention of seeing her again unless absolutely necessary.” With that, both Shinji and he excused themselves to go to the laboratory for what seemed like another sleepless night.

 

Marco shook his head, thanking his luck that Erik was in orientation today because otherwise Marcel surely would have given him a ring. Deciding that he should probably do something nice for Erik, like buying him a drink tonight, he put on his best smile and walked over to the group. “Hey lads, do you want to grab a bite together tonight? You must be new to the city and I can definitely show you some good places to go. We can also grab a drink afterwards if you like. There is a nice pub close-by that always serves the best beer and food and plays the best games.” They all nodded their agreement and headed out together. 

 

The walk to the pub was short and pleasant in the summer afternoon. Marco talked mostly with Mesut and Erik, partly because he didn’t have the utmost confidence in his spoken English, and partly because he wanted to put as much distance between him and Olivier Giroud as humanly possibly. Mesut, despite his shy demeanour, talked cheerfully about his childhood.

 

“I was born and grew up in Gelsenkirchen. So were my mum and dad. But my grandparents moved there from Turkey so I can speak Turkish. I’ve always wanted to be a professional footballer growing up. I reckon I was decent.” He blushed slightly. “When I was 15, mum and dad sent me to Spain to train in Castilla.” 

 

Both Marco and Erik gulped, “You were in Castilla? The Castilla? Of Real Madrid?” 

 

Mesut nodded, blushing even more, “I had a trial with them and they said I wasn’t half bad. But I had to stop when I busted my left knee 2 years later. That’s actually why I can’t be a detective. I can’t run very fast now so there is no way I can pass the training for that.” Mesut said this almost matter-of-factly, but Marco could still see a tinge of sadness in his big eyes.

 

Marco felt really bad for him. “That’s a real downer. I bet you were really good if you can make it to Castilla. I played for Dortmund until I was 15 before they decided to let me go,” he added bitterly, “said I was too small.” 

 

Mesut smiled, “Maybe it all worked out for the best. Otherwise I could play for Schalke and you for Dortmund. We could never have a normal conversation like this without ripping each other’s head off.” 

 

Marco grinned, he was really starting to like Mesut. “Can I tell İlkay your story the next time he blows his trumpet? It will shut him up alright.” Mesut laughed and nodded. Marco smiled at him, “Okay, more about myself. I’m local and basically spend my whole life in Dortmund. Schwarzgelben fan through and through. Never missed a single game in my life.” He puffed up his chest proudly and Mesut chuckled. Marco ignored him. “Like I said, my time with them didn’t work. I got tired of all the scouts telling me that I was too small and skinny so I decided to do something else. So here I am. One of my best friends is a footballer for Bayern though.” 

 

Now it was Mesut and Erik’s turn to gasp. Marco laughed. “Yes. Mario Götze is one of my best mates growing up. We grew up together and he is practically my brother.” This was not entirely true, Marco thought to himself bitterly, but they didn’t need to know the truth at this point. “I know all his dark secrets and as a way to help me keep my silence, he gets me prime tickets for the Bayern Dortmund games and sends me autographed jerseys of his teammates.” 

 

Erik’s eyes were round as saucers. “Blimey, so you can get jerseys and autographs of, say, Bastian Schweinsteiger and Philipp Lahm?”

 

Marco chuckled at Erik’s dumbfounded expression. “I had dinner with them last time they were playing Dortmund. Mario introduced me to the team,” continued Marco, ignoring Erik’s gasps. “Anyway, I can introduce you guys to Mario next time he’s here. He always pops in to my flat when he’s in town. My other two best mates growing up are Mats and Neven. You’ll probably meet them too, especially Mats. He’s a lawyer and got Kehli out of a tight spot a couple years ago. Since then, he’s been working sort of as our free legal advisor. Neven is an emergency physician so you better hope you never meet him at work.” One thing Marco didn’t mention was that in addition to working for the police, Mats worked on the defence cases too, and quite a few of them against the police. Mats declared that it was because he only believed in the ultimate justice, not his so-called allegiance. Neven, Mats best mate and ex-boyfriend, said that it was because Mats was brought up in such a way that he had to do the right thing and do it perfectly, whether he liked it or not. Marco, on the other hand, thought Mats was just bipolar most of the time. But again, he kept that to himself.

 

“What happened to Sebastian, if you don’t mind me asking?” Erik asked curiously. Marco hesitated, “You better ask Kehli yourself. It wasn’t really my story to tell.” Erik nodded thoughtfully, clearly understanding something. Marco could tell that Erik was a clever bloke, despite his young age and lack of experience in the real world.

 

He decided that he had already disclosed enough about himself and it was high time he get to know a bit more about his new partner. “So, now that Mesut and I have spilled our guts about our lives, it’s your turn to share Erik. What was your life like?”

 

Erik shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell really. I’ve always been bit of a bookworm. I mean,” he hastened to clarify, “I like football and stuff. It’s just I’ve always preferred books and you know…” he trailed off, looking a bit awkward. 

 

Mesut smiled at him kindly. “I know what you mean. Sometimes it’s just nice to read and be absorbed in a good book. Besides, you need that sort of concentration when you work in the lab.” Erik returned his smile, looking relieved. “Yeah that’s what I meant. Anyway, I grew up close to the French border so I can speak some French.” “Olivier will be delighted. He’s been dying to find someone to speak French with,” said Mesut, only to be interrupted by the said person.

 

“I heard my name Mesut dear. Do you miss me already?” said Olivier, wrapping his long tattooed arms around Mesut, causing the German to blush and look down uneasily. 

 

Sensing Mesut’s discomfort, Olivier squeezed him a little tighter and looked directly at Erik and Marco. Behind his casual smile, Marco could tell that Olivier was very serious and ready to jump at anyone who dared to utter a single unkind word to Mesut. Eager to make his position clear (and happy to see that despite his joking and flirty manner, Olivier could be serious and cared about Mesut very much), Marco hastily said, “Don’t flatter yourself Olivier. Mesut was complaining about you and making plans to elope with me.” 

 

Olivier faked a fainting fit and clutched his heart, “Oh Mesut, how could you hurt me so? Isn’t my undying love enough for you?”

 

Erik joined in on the laugh too, “Don’t worry Olivier. If Mesut does elope with Marco, I’ll take you. Even though I only dig long-haired blokes, you’re alright, especially when you keep your mouth shut.”

 

Marco laughed, not sure if Erik actually meant what he just said. Mesut beamed at them, looking much more at ease. Before he could say anything to them though, they were already at the car park of the pub.

 

Marco was surprised to find Mats’ Mercedes-Benz in the car park. Knowing Mats and his obsession with work, Marco thought there must have been some sort of major disaster that drove Mats out of his office in the middle of a case. (A minor explosion in the office was Marco’s best bet, mostly because it had happened before. With Sergio around, the possibilities were really endless.) What surprised him more was the car next to Mats’, a nice black Audi R8, which belonged to none other than Mats’ ex-boyfriend Neven. It wasn’t like that Mats and Neven were no longer friends now. In fact, they stayed really close even after the breakup. Nonetheless, seeing their cars next to each other brought back such memories of the old days. What were they doing, going to dinner by themselves anyway? Were they dating again? Of course Marco would be thrilled if they were back together. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Mats and Neven grew up together, along with Marco and Mario. While Marco and Mario were a couple years apart, Mats and Neven were of the same age so they were in the same class since kindergarten until when Neven moved away at 11. When Neven moved back to Dortmund for university, he and Mats rekindled their friendship almost right away. Marco and Mario were betting on when they would start dating and couldn’t believe that it actually took them two years to get to that stage. Mats and Neven just complemented each other so well. 

 

Neven had quite a turbulent childhood. He was born in Yugoslavia but had to flee the country at the age of 5 when the Bosnian war was raging. His family came to Dortmund but had to leave again when he was 11 after their residence authorisation had expired. After spending 7 years in the US, he finally came back to Dortmund for university. Maybe it was because of this, Neven was extremely confident in what he believed in and who he was. It surprised no one that Neven chose to be an emergency physician in a small clinic so he could help the less privileged. Neven was perfect for the job because he was probably the calmest and the most easy-going person Marco had ever met. It was Neven who helped Marco get through his heartbreak, which Marco was extremely thankful for.

 

Mats, on the other hand, grew up in a very posh, proper, and conservative family. His father was the founding partner of the largest law firm in Dortmund and his mother was a TV presenter for the daily news. Marco remembered that when he was a child, going to Mats’ place for dinner was always a little frightening for him (and Mario too) because he often felt inadequate when he was at the pristine dinner table with Mats’ perfectly dressed and well-mannered parents. Clever, athletic, kind, witty (and sarcastic when his parents were not around), and extremely handsome, Mats was the perfect student and son growing up, and was expected to be so by everyone in the family. But beneath his cool and collected demeanour, Mats was really just a somewhat insecure young chap with too much pressure and expectations put on him. Although he was truly passionate about football and an exceptional defender, Mats chose to follow his father’s footsteps in law. Admittedly, his eloquence and, though Mats usually thoroughly denied it, his handsome face and charm, made him the perfect lawyer to represent his client at court. Mats had always needed Neven, his easy company and his casual sense of humour, to balance out his highly stressful life.

 

Marco never understood why they broke up anyway. Okay he reckoned he knew why Mats broke up with Neven. Like Neven said, Mats was brought up in such a way that he had to do everything perfect. Him being gay of course was far from perfection in other people’s eyes. The pressure from his parents and their friends proved to be too much for Mats to cope with. So he broke it off with Neven and started going out with Cathy Fischer, a beautiful sweet girl from a respectable family. What Marco couldn’t comprehend was how little fight Neven put up and how easily he agreed to the breakup. Knowing Neven and how much he cared for Mats, Marco expected him to yell at Mats that the rest of the world could go fuck themselves and shake him into either giving up the stupid idea or running away with him. Neven, however, did nothing of the sort. He simply accepted Mats’ decision, stayed best mate with Mats, and even gave Mats his blessing when he started seeing Cathy. To this day, Marco still didn’t know the reason behind it all. But he chose to let the matter rest, rather than trying to pry into Neven’s business.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

While Marco was lost in his thought, their party had stepped into the pub. The place was crowded as usual, but Marco was able to spot Mats and Neven almost right away. They were sitting close to the window, fully engrossed in their conversation. Marco wondered briefly if he should join them. Normally he wouldn’t hesitate, but seeing that he was with a group of strangers that he didn’t know very well himself, one of them a French peacock (İlkay truly did possess the uncanny ability to point out the unpleasant truth that others would normally keep to themselves), one a Schalke fan, one a potentially gay chemistry bookworm, and one a golden retriever personified, Marco didn’t feel like he should impose their company upon Mats and Neven. 

 

Unfortunately, Marco’s good intent was foiled by one particular Joe Hart, who for some reason unbeknownst to Marco, spotted Mats and Neven and happily exclaimed: “Oh my god, look at the two blokes over there David! Aren't they the cutest couple you’ve ever seen? The curly-haired one looks like a Greek God!” Even with the bustling noises of the pub, Joe’s voice was loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the vicinity, including Mats and Neven. Marco would like nothing more than to hide his face behind his hands and pretend that he didn’t know them at all. But unfortunately, this was a little too late, as Neven rose up from his seat and started walking towards them. Marco secretly hoped that Neven and Mats weren’t actually on a date because no matter how easy-going Neven might be, he could still hold a grudge. While Mats mostly expressed his annoyance by some well-constructed insinuations, Neven was a man of action rather than words. Unfortunately, he knew a little too much about human anatomy and weaknesses, being a doctor and all that, to be totally harmless. 

 

Luckily, Neven seemed to find this encounter more interesting than annoying. “Hey Marco, fancy seeing you here. I thought Roman would rather die than let you lads out of office before midnight. And you have some company I see. I’m Neven, Marco’s best friend.” Marco snorted at this statement but Neven carried on without paying him any attention, as he greeted the new officers with a rather amused smile. Neven was very tall and lean. Though not as strikingly handsome as Mats, he was still very attractive. What was amazing about Neven was that he seemed to possess the ability to make others completely at ease around him, with his carefree demeanour and his warm smiles that always emanated from his beautiful blue eyes. It was hardly surprising to see the shy Mesut, reserved Silva, and young Erik relax visibly in front of Neven. “You lot must be new because I’ve seen all of Marco’s friends from CID at least once in my clinic. On the plus side, seeing me means you don’t have any life-threatening problems otherwise they’d have brought you to Sankt-Johannes rather than my humble clinic. Since it’s probably inevitable that we will meet under that circumstance in the future, I do hope you’re better patients than Roman and Sergio. I swear that I must have spent 80% of my time pinning Roman down so he won’t jump back into action again before anyone could even clean the blood off him and explaining simple things to Sergio in both German and Spanish while the nurses coo over his lost puppy dog expressions.” 

 

While others laughed heartily, David and Joe seemed a little lost in Neven’s rapid and accented German. Sensing their confusion, Neven smiled and switched to English, “Don’t worry, you’ll learn German quickly enough. I had to brush up my German when I came to Dortmund after 7 years in the US. Most people here can communicate in everyday English with no problem. Others like Marco, whose spoken English is tentative at best,” Marco glared at Neven, even though he was telling the absolute truth, “can still understand English. Then of course you have Mats who can speak English better than most English people, with his perfectly posh accent and all that. But then again, you don’t usually count Mats who’s basically a freak of nature. Speaking of which, let me introduce you to Mats, or, as some of you may prefer it, the Greek God.” He finished jokingly and Joe at least had the sense to look somewhat embarrassed.

 

Mats was as tall as Neven with a stronger build. His sculpted face now wore an elegant smile and he extended out his hands formally to Marco and his new friends as they introduced themselves to each other. While Neven was wearing a loose yellow and black striped jumper (making him look rather like a bee) with a pair of jeans and trainers, Mats was dressed impeccably in his expensive dark red shirt, perfectly tailored suit and trousers. Marco could feel Joe Hart drooling over Mats next to him. Marco could hardly blame him though. Even in the shabbiest clothes, Mats always managed to look regal and divine. Before Joe could make a bigger fool of himself, David put his hand lightly on Joe’s arm. Joe almost jerked out of his trance and looked down at David, who had a peaceful smile on his face. Joe’s expression changed almost immediately and he reached for David’s hand instinctively. With his fingers laced with David’s, when Joe looked back up at Mats, his smile was no longer dreamy but bright and cheerful again. Marco turned his eyes away, not wanting to intrude on this intimate moment, and was momentarily distracted by Olivier who flashed his most seductive smile at a nearby waitress and asked her if she could be so kind as to accommodate their large group. The poor girl blushed beet red and hurried away to find them a private corner with a large table, even though the pub was extremely crowded. After she led them to their table, Olivier actually kissed her hand, making the girl so red that Marco was certain they were about to witness spontaneous human combustion. Olivier’s antics earned him a raised eyebrow from Mats and a smirk from Neven. Mesut, on the other hand, looked half amused half exasperated. 

 

After everyone settled into their seats, Marco found himself sitting next to Mats at the far end of the table. He couldn’t help but notice that Mats seemed a little preoccupied today. When the waitress (a different one since the previous girl had probably passed out somewhere from too much excitement) came to take their orders, Mats almost ordered dessert for his entrée. Marco wondered if this had anything to do with Neven, who was sitting at the other end of the table and had lost no time in starting a conversation with Erik next to him. Since they were sitting across from David and Joe, he felt it would be safe to carry out any conversation with Mats in German without being overheard.  

 

“So why are you out of the office so early? Has Sergio apparated right into your office with a bomb to blow up the entire building?” 

 

Mats rolled his eyes in a most un-Mats-ish way, “I worry for your taste Marco. Is Harry Potter the only thing you read? Not to mention the atrocity that is Justin Bieber, which you call music. But to answer your question, no. I believe Sergio Ramos is still safely in Spain, probably cuddling with his Iker if he hasn’t managed to burn down their flat yet.”

 

“Then how come you’re here with Neven? I thought you were working on some sort of messy inheritance case. As a matter of fact, why are you working on an inheritance case? You specialise in criminal not civil law.”

 

“Normally my firm would never ask me to work on a case like this. But the client this time is wealthy enough to demand the best lawyer in the firm. The reason why I agreed to work on the case is because it’s related to the unsolved...” He stopped mid-sentence rather abruptly, catching Marco off guard. As he followed Mats’ gaze, he was greeted with the scene of Erik talking animatedly to Neven. There was no trace of the awkward bookworm-ish boy Marco met earlier that day. Although Marco couldn’t quite catch their conversation, he could tell Erik was talking about something he was very passionate about, gesturing enthusiastically as he spoke. Neven, on the other hand, was listening intently, with a warm genuine smile on his handsome face. His arm was draped casually on the chair Erik was sitting and their faces were dangerously close together. When Neven said something that must have been funny, Erik threw his head back in laughter and almost fell into Neven’s arms.

 

Marco groaned inwardly. Mats might be able to fool others into believing that he had long moved on and was currently in a serious relationship with Cathy, he knew only too well that it was just a façade of, “my life is perfect and I’m extremely happy”. Indeed, if looks could kill, Erik would be dead as a dodo. But being a lawyer, Mats had always managed to pull himself together at the speed of light. Turning his attention back to Marco, he spoke with a tone that suggested that Marco was not to comment on what had just happened. “As I was saying before, I was intrigued by the case because it was tied with another unsolved criminal case, which I’ve been wanting to speak to you about for a couple weeks. But this is neither the time nor place to discuss the matter. Are you free after dinner tonight, or do you have other previous engagements?”

 

Marco let out a humourless laugh. “My schedule is so filled with social activities as per usual, which is none of course. So yeah, we can talk about after dinner.”

 

“Splendid. I would like to keep the conversation discreet at this point. Why don’t we go to our usual coffee place where we shall not be disturbed?”

 

Marco nodded absent-mindedly, momentarily distracted by the arrival of their food, which was of its usual superior quality. Several pints of DAB Original were also brought to the table and the conversations on the table flowed much more smoothly after that. Mats was talking to David and Joe in rapid English, which proved too much for Marco, especially after one glass of beer. So he allowed his gaze to wander. Neven and Erik were still absorbed in their conversation, thoroughly oblivious to the world around them. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, Marco could swear that he felt the intensity of Neven’s gaze on Erik grow by each passing second. At this rate, Erik would surely be spending the night at Neven’s flat. Mesut and Olivier had joined Mats’ conversation and they were talking in louder and louder English about football. Marco shook his head. If there was only one way for men to bond, it must be football. He sincerely hoped that Mats wouldn’t bite Mesut’s head off for supporting Schalke because even Mats could get very passionate about football. But he supposed Olivier would protect Mesut, either by being so narcissistic and flamboyant that he would make Mats sick, or by punching Mats in the face. Not wanting to witness a potential bloodbath, he looked up at the television in front of their table and almost dropped his fork.

 

On the television, the familiar face of Mario Götze and his trademark boyish smile were shown in close-up. The presenter was clearly a fan and was gushing over Mario’s recent performance in Bayern. She then proceeded to attribute his brilliant form to his engagement with his girlfriend Ann-Kathrin Brommel, which was announced earlier that day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I don't know when I'll ever get to the actual cases. I just hope people would bear with me when I'm trying to build the characters. 
> 
> On the plus side, I get to write more about Neven, who's my main inspiration for writing this fic. He won't be the main character but I always try to sneak him in whenever possible :) So forgive me for the long personal history about Neven, who's in Ethiopia right now, working on his charity foundation. (Go Neven!)
> 
> Next chapter will be about Mario and Marco so it most likely will be angsty too.
> 
> P.S. Congrats to Mats!


	4. Sometimes Love Isn't Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Marco's past and his unrequited love for Mario. How Neven, Mats, and Mario all helped Marco deal with his heartbreak and move on, in their own unique ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies again if this chapter is angsty. But I promise this is probably the last sad chapter, well, about Mats, Neven, Marco, and Mario anyway. 
> 
> Also a list of the main characters that had appeared so far and their occupations:
> 
> Marco Reus: Detective of Crime Section  
> Erik Durm: Crime Scene Examiner of Forensics Section  
> İlkay Gündoğan: Detective of Crime Section  
> Shinji Kagawa: Crime Scene Examiner of Forensics Section  
> Sebastian Kehl: Crime Section Inspector  
> Roman Weidenfeller: Chief Inspector of Criminal Investigative Division  
> Jürgen Klopp: Detective Superintendent. 
> 
> Mesut Özil: Crime Scene Examiner from England  
> Olivier Giroud: Detective from England  
> David Silva: Crime Scene Examiner from England  
> Joe Hart: Detective from England
> 
> Sergio Ramos: Detective from Spain  
> Iker Casillas: Detective from Spain
> 
> Mats Hummels: Lawyer  
> Mario Götze: Footballer  
> Neven Subotić: Emergency physician
> 
> Robert Lewandowski: (Occupation to be revealed later), Satan

The constricting pain in his chest made the rest of the world seem surreal. Marco had always thought that he had long accepted his fate three years ago. So why was his heart still aching with such raw and powerful pain, after knowing that this was bound to happen one day? Next to him, Mats was looking at him intently with concern. Marco thought vaguely that he should tell Mats he was fine, that it was just a shock and there was no need to be worried about him. But he was so lost in his thoughts and emotions to bring himself to do that.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marco met Mario when he was 8 years old, on the football pitch of the school. Back then, Mario was a young boy who just transferred to their school all the way from Memmingen. Even though Mario was a couple years younger than Marco and incredibly shy at the new school, his talent on the field shone through and left everyone almost dumbfounded since the first day. Mats and Neven took to Mario almost immediately, Mats because of Mario’s pleasant personality and proper manners, Neven probably because of his nature to look after those in need of help. So Mario became part of their group and although they were in different classes, they spent an inordinate amount of time together. Marco sometimes felt like they were some sort of strange family, with Mats being the dad, Neven being the mum, and Mario being his younger brother. Of course, when he let it slip many years later, after consuming an unusually large amount of alcohol, Mats’ face turned almost scarlet while Neven and Mario snorted in laughter. 

 

So they grew up together, happy and carefree, playing football together after school and watching television when they were all exhausted from the exercise. The first change came when Neven had to move to America 2 years later. For almost 6 months after Neven’s departure, Mats shut himself off completely. Even Marco and Mario couldn’t get him out of his shell. They had always known that Neven was close to Mats in a way no one else could ever be. But what they didn’t comprehend before was how close those two really were. It was like part of Mats had died and he spent all his spare time either staring into the ceiling or emailing Neven. As a result of Neven’s absence and Mats’ increasing distance from them, Mario and Marco grew even closer. Now they had to spend all of their free time together with each other. Not that Marco minded that. Mario was bright, fun, smart, easygoing, and passionate about football. He was also surprisingly considerate, despite his young age. Marco sometimes wondered if he was the only insensitive git in the group, who grew up in a simple happy family and cared about nothing other than football and his friends. 

 

When they had all reached their teens (Mats had finally come out of his shell again, probably with the help of Neven even though he was thousands of miles away), they had to face the choice of deciding their future. While Mats had long decided to follow his father’s footstep and venture into the legal realm, both Mario and Marco wanted to pursue the career of a professional footballer. Both had been with the Dortmund youth team for quite some time but that was only the very first step to a long and arduous journey that many people fail. While Mario had displayed sheer class on the field, earning him constant praise from the coach, Marco’s situation was more delicate. More than once the coach had expressed his concern over Marco’s slight and frail physique. Despite his best effort (and all his mum’s delicious meals), Marco simply could not change the way he was. He sometimes thought bitterly that if he had been a girl, he would have had the best gift in the world: the inability to gain one extra pound no matter how much he stuffed himself. But Marco simply wouldn’t give up his dream of becoming a football star unless he had been forced to.

 

Finally, when he was 15 years old, the dream he had clung on to for so long was shattered in front of his own eyes. During a match against another youth team, Marco and Mario partnered up front as usual. After Marco picked up a sublime pass from Mario and raced forward towards the goal, he caught a glimpse of the shadow of the defender from the other team charging towards him like a bull before he found himself flying across the field. Everything after that seemed like a blur. He vaguely remembered the pain in his ankle, the red card shown to the defender, the yelling of his teammates at the other team, and the grim face of his coach. The only thing he could clearly recall, even after all this time, was the face of Mario, filled with worry and concern, and the warmth of his hands on Marco’s face. At that moment, Marco realised that he was in love.

 

After the injury, which surprisingly didn’t take too long to recover, Marco was told by his coach that they had decided not to keep him on the team. His coach told him that it would be better for him in the long run to do something else, that even though this time the injury was not serious, he was too prone to such incidents and one more tackle like this might end his career and scar him for life. Those words, though true and not unkind, hurt Marco deeply. He almost turned into the state Mats was in several years earlier. But luckily for him, Mario was there for him. He would come to Marco’s house every day and stay in the room with Marco, sitting in bed with him in silence or hugging him when Marco was particularly sad. When Marco had finally decided that moping and wailing wouldn’t get him anywhere, Mario went on trips with him to other football clubs for trials. They had to stop eventually. Marco had to accept the reality that he may never become a professional footballer in this lifetime and needed to find something else to do with his life. Even though the end results were bitter, Marco never regretted a second of it, because he was with Mario, who had become the light of his life. He sometimes wondered if Mario could sense his feelings for him but even if Mario did, he made no comment on it and continued their friendship as if nothing had changed between them. So Marco took the hint and kept his feelings to himself.

 

Things would have stayed the same if Neven hadn’t returned to Dortmund from America. When Neven arrived, Mats was beside himself with glee. It soon became clear to everyone that the feelings Mats and Neven had for each other were not so platonic. Why they moved at such a snail pace and didn’t start going out until 2 years later was a mystery to both Mario and Marco. During those 2 years, Marco and Mario had talked more than once about when Mats and Neven would finally stop dancing around each other and go at it for real. Those discussions of course, had never really helped Mats and Neven in any way. But it gave Marco hope that Mario may not be so averse to the idea of two men being deeply in love with each other. Still he kept his desperate longings to himself, for he treasured his friendship with Mario too much to risk it. They were best mates and stayed that way even after Mats and Neven had become a sickeningly sweet couple. The fact that this unrequited love for his best friend was eating him away was of no significance to Marco, not at all, as long as he’d got to have Mario close to him.

 

At the end of his third year at university, Marco had made up his mind to become a detective and was ready to start his internship at Dortmund CID that summer. At that time, Mario was the most successful of them all, with Mats and Neven still in school to become a lawyer and a physician. Mario was playing for Dortmund and an integral part of the team’s formidable attacking power. It was that year that Dortmund won the Champions League, which threw the whole city into total euphoria and insane celebrations. When the team returned to Dortmund from London, the celebrations in the city were already well underway and most of the people had had too much alcohol in their system to function properly, Marco being one of them. So when Mario finally showed up at Mats and Neven’s flat to join their celebration, looking knackered but blissfully happy, Marco couldn’t help but rush towards Mario and kiss him full on the lips.

 

The events that followed were awkward and painful to say the least. Mats and Neven were considerate enough to lead Marco and Mario to their study and asked everyone else at the party to leave them alone. Once they were in the room by themselves, Marco was torn between the urge to plump down to the floor and beg for Mario’s forgiveness and the desire to kiss him thoroughly and passionately again. But he remained silent, waiting for Mario to break the ice. The first word that came out of Mario’s mouth was enough to kill Marco on the spot.

 

“Sorry Marco. But I’m not gay and I’ve been sort of seeing a girl. I mean it wasn’t anything serious before so I never told anyone. But I recently realised that I might be in love with her so I’m willing to try a relationship with her.” Mario added hastily as Marco’s face displayed both pain and betrayal. “I was about to tell you I swear. You’re my best mate and I would never keep a secret like this from you. But with the Champions League final and everything, I’ve just got sort of distracted.” He finished rather feebly.

 

Marco remained silent. He would not trust himself to open his mouth because he wasn’t sure what would come out of it if he did. So Mario continued on, “There was something else I need to tell you.” He took a deep breath and looked Marco straight in the eyes. “I’m leaving Dortmund for Bayern this summer.”

 

Of all the things Mario had said so far, this piece of news shocked Marco the most. Of course he had expected Mario to be straight and was not really surprised to know that Mario had been seeing someone. He was a famous footballer after all and girls would be throwing themselves at him. What he had not expected was for Mario to leave Dortmund, a young, strong, and growing team built around him, the city that he grew up in, and all his friends here, to go all the way to Bayern Munich, a team filled with talent that Mario could not even guarantee a starting spot. He simply could not understand it. When he finally managed to find his voice, all he could do was to croak out a shaky “Why”.

 

It hurt Marco to see the pained expression on Mario’s face. It was as though he was going through some sort of internal debate as to whether to tell Marco the truth or not. Suddenly it dawned on Marco. Mario had known his crush on him all along. It pained Mario as much as it hurt Marco, because Mario knew he could not return Marco’s love no matter how hard he tried. So he did the only thing he could do to solve the situation: to give them distance, in the hope that it would help Marco move on, even though it meant that he would be hated by every single person in Dortmund and be remembered as the Judas who betrayed them. In that moment, Marco finally understood that there could be no future between them, that even though Mario loved him as much as he could as a friend and brother, he could not return his feelings as a lover. The fact that Mario cherished him enough to sacrifice his image and even risk his own career in order to help him move on was enough for Marco. He simply could not ask anything more from Mario. So he closed the distance between them and hugged Mario tightly, like they had done countless times before. “It’s alright. I’m your biggest fan and your best mate always. Nothing will ever change that.” 

 

So Mario moved to Munich that summer with his girlfriend Ann-Kathrin Brommel. Marco started his internship with CID and buried himself in work. He was so dedicated to the cases and so gifted that Jürgen personally offered him a full time position after he graduate. His life only became busier after he started working full time at CID, which came as a relief because it meant he didn’t have to think about Mario too much. He dated other people of course. And he made a point to tell Mario when he started going out with someone so Mario would know that Marco was doing well and moving on. To give Mario credit, the distance did help. Of course they still kept in touch with each other and try to meet up whenever possible. But with the passage of time, the acute pain had turned into a dull ache and Marco was able to breath more normally again. Mats and Neven’s company helped too. When he wasn’t working and dating, Marco spent most of his time with Neven, who read him extremely dull medical textbooks with ridiculous disease names that lulled him to sleep every single time. Mats and Neven continued with their respective graduate studies and split up shortly after they graduate. It was somehow a miracle that their close friendship survived all of these, for which Marco was extremely thankful for. Now, seeing that Mario was about to get married, he needed his friends more than ever.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When he managed to pull himself back to reality, Marco found himself face to face with Neven, who had obviously seen the news and switched seats with David. What surprised Marco was that Erik had switched seats with Joe and was now sitting next to Neven. He instinctively turned to look at Mats but found no trace of jealousy on his face, only concern. His heart expanding and glowing, Marco felt such a surge of emotion towards his friends. He smiled at them, feeling incredibly lucky to have such caring, loyal friends who stood by him all these time. 

 

His smile seemed to have relaxed his friends, as Mats smiled back at him while patting him on the back consolingly. Neven, on the other hand, half rose from his seat to ruffle Marco’s carefully styled hair, earning him a yell of indignation from Marco. Both Mats and Erik snickered at Marco’s reaction. Neven winked at Marco before sitting back down and putting his arm back on Erik’s chair. Mats ignored them this time. “If you need anything, Marco, you can always count on us.”

 

Before Marco could reply, Neven smiled at him and said, “you’ll be fine Marco. It’s just a huge shock to the system. Speaking of which, Mario is such a jerk for not telling us this ahead of time. Anyway, trust me Marco, you’ve already moved on, whether you realise it or not. It takes some getting used to, but you’ll get there. In the mean time, if you need, I have plenty of medical publications to amuse you.” 

 

Marco opened his mouth, but no word came out. Neven never ceased to amaze him with how well he understood Marco. As hard as it might seem to believe, Marco realised that Neven was right. He had indeed moved on. There would still be closed wound no doubt. Marco somehow doubted that he’d ever be able to love someone else like this again, after all the pain he had experienced. But he was ready to forget the past. Mario’s engagement announcement just made it awfully clear to him what he should do with his life. Although he fully agreed with Neven on the part of Mario being a prat. He should have told them long before he blabbed to the media! 

 

“I reckon you’ve got a point Neven. It may take a while but I bet I’ll soon start chatting up blokes in the pub. But you know what? We should ring Mario to tell him off for being such a tosser! How could he keep this a secret from his mates?”

 

Mats nodded his agreement solemnly. “It is completely unacceptable. I will definitely speak to Mario about this and warn him that if something of such nature ever happens again, I will ask Franck to sneak into Mario’s house after he has gone to bed.” Ah, Marco had forgotten that Mats actually knew some of Mario’s teammates and had somehow managed to strike up a strange friendship with one Franck Ribéry. Although Franck was a nice fun chap that Marco would delightedly spend the whole day with, waking up to his face in the middle of the night was never something Marco would look forward to. Thinking that this was punishment enough for anyone, he nodded eagerly to Mats’ suggestion, making Neven and Erik snigger. 

 

The rest of the meal went smoothly enough. By the time they had finished eating and were getting ready to leave, everyone was so stuffed that they could barely walk. They had also had quite some beer. It looked like Joe was insisting upon carrying David piggyback out of the pub while David reasoned with him patiently. Olivier was practically all over Mesut, who looked ready to respond in equal enthusiasm. Neven and Erik still had their heads together, talking about god-knows-what. Marco figured that he had more than he had bargained for and was ready to leave with Mats to continue their previous discussion. Mats appeared to be of the same mind, if the occasional murderous looks he threw at Neven and Erik were anything to go by. So they bid the others goodbye and left for the coffee shop in Mats’ car.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY? Why did I put myself through something like this? I was almost in tears when I was writing the last scene between Marco and Mario. And I don't even ship them. Sigh... I suppose I just got a little carried away. 
> 
> I purposefully made Mario straight because I found it highly unlikely that everyone is gay. Besides, sometimes love really isn't enough to overcome certain obstacles in life.
> 
> Also I'm so sorry Franck! I hope your fans won't kill me for what I wrote about you.
> 
> We'll go into real cases in the next chapter, which means I will probably start wildly inventing things to make the deduction work... Facepalm!


	5. The Fine Line Between Genius and Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mats asked Marco for help on a case. Marco had to face the ordeal of dealing with one particular Mario Balotelli.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where this chapter come from... I think I was drunk when I wrote it lol.

The drive to the coffee shop was a short one. Neither Mats nor Marco said anything in the car, both lost in their own thoughts. By the time they got there and ordered their coffee, a double espresso for Mats who probably still had to work after this, and a Latte for Marco, it was already 10 pm.

 

“So! Now that we are free of distractions.” Mats almost spat out the word distractions. “We can return to our previous conversation. The unsolved murder case of Mr Andrei Abramovich.”

 

Marco almost choked on his coffee, “Are you telling me that you’re working on the inheritance case of Andrei Abramovich?! Hang on, are you supposed to tell me this? Isn’t this covered by your non-disclosure agreement, or are you finally feeling like a rebel after what had happened at the dinner table tonight?”

 

Mats gave him a withering look. “Don’t be absurd! Of course I’m not going to disclose such information without the explicit approval of my client. But since my client feared that she might be wrongly accused of crimes she had not committed, she considered it prudent to seek help and protection from the police if necessary and gave me permission to speak to one if the opportunity arises.” 

 

“So I reckon your client is the widow of Andrei Abramovich.”

 

Mats nodded. “Quite. After Mr Abramovich’s death, his will was revealed and he left 30% of his property to his wife, mostly in the forms of saving funds and real estate. The rest of his property, including his private contracting company, was left to his younger brother Mr Roman Abramovich, a successful Russian businessman of his own right. Mrs Abramovich did not object to her late husband’s bequest, even though she has every right to feel entitled to more as the legal spouse of Mr Abramovich. His brother, however, did not share the same sentiment. He has hinted in various occasions that he felt Mrs Abramovich was responsible for the death of her husband and had probably forged the will after he passed away. The latter accusation was quickly dropped because the authenticity of the will was beyond doubt, thanks to the work of my colleagues. The former accusation, however, was still being brought up by Mr Roman Abramovich during our meetings. Naturally you can understand Mrs Abramovich’s concern.”

 

“Absolutely. But was there any reason for Roman Abramovich to suspect that your client was involved in his brother’s death? I mean, he’s a successful businessman, isn’t he? So he can’t be so thick as to think that he can just go around accusing people without any substantial evidence.”

 

“Of course not. Roman Abramovich might be many things but he is definitely not foolish. The main reason why he suspected Irina was because of the age difference between Irina and Mr Andrei Abramovich and her supposed infidelity.”

 

“So was she cheating on him? What’s the age difference by the way?” As an afterthought Marco added. “Is she fit?”

 

Mats gave him a quizzical look. “Why do you even care if she’s fit or not? You don’t swing that way anyway. Or have you changed your mind, after what had happened tonight?”

 

Marco scowled at him. “No, I’m just curious. I mean if she’s young and fit, it’s much more likely that she had cheated on him, isn’t it?”

 

Mats cleared his throat. “She’s 30 years old, which is 26 years his junior. And yes, she is thought to be very attractive by most people. Whether she has cheated on Mr Andrei Abramovich is her business. I do not pry into my client’s personal life nor do I make moral judgment on my client. What I can tell you though, is that she has no relationship of such nature with the young student they suspected.”

 

“Why do they suspect anything then, if there is nothing going on between them?”

 

“Well, the young student they suspected, Héctor Bellerín, was seen in Mr Andrei Abramovich’s household on multiple occasions. I do not deny his connection to the family. But it was Mr Andrei Abramovich not Irina that he was, um, very intimately connected.”

 

Marco gaped at Mats, “So you’re telling me that Andrei Abramovich was gay and possibly killed by one of his young lovers?”

 

“First of all, I’ve said no such thing. I simply told you the nature of the relationship between Héctor Bellerín, Mr Andrei Abramovich, and Irina. Whether Mr Abramovich was gay or not, I cannot be sure. I doubt it though because Irina told me that his interest in her was genuine at the beginning, which was why they ended up married. But I suppose he wasn’t opposed to pleasure in other forms and Mr Bellerín is young and attractive. As for Mr Bellerín’s involvement in the case, well, he has an alibi.” Somehow the look in Mats’ face told Marco that he didn’t completely believe in it.

 

“Hang on a second. The Herdecke police has actually questioned this Bellerín chap? Do they suspect him as well? Who is he anyway?”

 

“According to my research, he’s a university student reading Economics and Finance in Technische Universität Dortmund. He’s only 20 years old but seemed surprisingly mature for his age. He was originally from Spain but moved to England when he was fairly young. He was in University College London before and only transferred to TU Dortmund this semester.”

 

Marco raised his eyebrow. “Why did he want to transfer? University College London is such a prestigious school! I mean no offence to TU Dortmund, but it’s simply not at the same level.”

 

Mats nodded, “I understand what you mean and trust me, I have the same doubt. His family is still in London and I see no obvious reason why he wanted to transfer here. I did ask him this,” he added hastily before Marco could ask, “but he told me it was because he wanted to improve his German. I even asked him why he picked Dortmund in particular. He said it was because he found the economic transition of the Ruhr region very intriguing and TU Dortmund was founded during that time period. He said that he was planning to use this as his thesis topic and this was the perfect place for him to conduct his research.” 

 

“Did you believe him?”

 

Mats sighed, “He sounded convincing enough and I think everyone else including Benedikt believed him. I even spoke with his professor, Joachim Löw, who confirmed that he was indeed working on economic transition of the Ruhr region for his thesis. But I just have a hunch that there was something off in his story.”

 

Marco pondered over the matter for a moment. As far as he knew, Benedikt Höwedes was a very competent detective and incredibly hard to deceive. If he believed in this Héctor Bellerín, it was almost certain that he was innocent. The evidence also seemed believable enough. But again, Mats’ instinct had always proved to be correct and had helped them in countless occasions. If Mats’ hunch was strong enough that he wanted to talk to Marco about the case, Marco was not one to ignore it.

 

“So tell me more about his alibi and his relationship with Andrei Abramovich.”

 

“Well, like I said, he was a university student in TU Dortmund, of which Mr Abramovich was a patron. Apparently they met during an event hosted by the school. Héctor being the young aspiring economics student and Mr Abramovich the successful businessman, it was only natural for Héctor to seek out Mr Abramovich during the event. He would not tell us the details of their relationship, but that’s personal and hardly relevant. He did admit that he was involved sexually with Mr Abramovich, although he insisted that the relationship was consensual and there was no monetary agreement between the two. Given Mr Abramovich’s history, mind you he started pursuing Irina when she was barely of age, I’m not at all surprised at his interest in Héctor. Héctor’s interest for him, on the other hand, is much harder to understand. He said it was because he was always attracted to older people who are more mature and worldly. I personally find it hard to believe. If he was seeing a 36-year-old, fine. The age difference is significant but understandable. But Mr Abramovich was 56 years old and married. And let’s face it, he’s no George Clooney. Why would a bright 20-year-old willingly submit himself to such an unequal relationship?” Mats sighed again, “But these are just my personal opinion on the matter. It was not significant enough to be considered by the jury as a motive. Even less so in the face of his alibi.”

 

Marco was really intrigued now. “What was his alibi?”

 

“The murder occurred at around 2:00 am that night. Héctor was at a party earlier that night in a friend’s place in Witten. He left the party at around 1:30 am to go back to his dorm on campus. His departure was confirmed by numerous witnesses at the party so I do not doubt that. What happened after the party was the suspicious part. Normally it would take him 15 minutes to get to Mr Abramovich’s manor in Herdecke. But since it was the dead of the night, it wouldn’t surprise me if he managed the drive in 10 minutes, which left him ample time to have a nice cup of tea before committing the murder.” Mats paused after this, as though uncertain if he should continue.

 

“So what did he say happened after he left the party?” Marco urged, wondering what could have caused Mats’ hesitation.

 

Mats took a deep breath and continued, “He told us that when he was driving back to campus, he was involved in a car accident that required him to go to the emergency room,” He paused, “of Marien-Klinik.”

 

Marco understood it immediately and he gasped audibly, “Please tell me it wasn’t Neven’s shift that night!”

 

Mats laughed humourlessly, “I’m pleased that we’re on the same page. Yes, it was Neven’s shift that night and he told Benedikt that Héctor was admitted to the hospital at 1:43 am that night and stayed there until 3 am before he was discharged.”

 

Marco couldn’t believe his ears. On one hand, it was hard for him to even imagine Neven being involved in a criminal case. On the other hand, the situation did sound suspicious enough and he couldn’t blame Mats for being skeptical. “So that’s why you were talking to Neven today, isn’t it? Even though Benedikt believed him.”

 

Mats looked almost miserable now. “I don’t want to doubt Neven. But I just had this nagging feeling that Héctor was somehow involved and I suppose I just want to hear it disproved from Neven myself. Unfortunately our conversation didn’t help ease my suspicion. I mean the evidence all suggests that Héctor had nothing to do with it. He didn’t even have a motive for heaven’s sake! Andrei Abramovich was not known to be an abusive man. In fact, he had always treated his lovers very well. Yes, I have even talked to his previous lovers. They all said that he was generous and gentle and the partings were mutual and amicable. Irina never objected to his affairs, as long as they stayed married. Héctor obviously can’t inherit anything and he’s not foolish enough to think otherwise. So he really has no reason to kill Andrei Abramovich. He is also an exemplary student from a nice family. He has loads of friends who all spoke fondly and favourably of him. His history was perfectly clean. Not even a parking ticket. I reckon that’s why Benedikt was so willing to believe his alibi. I even hate myself for being so paranoid and for doubting the young boy and most importantly Neven. I mean he even gave us a copy of Héctor’s medical record and it confirmed what he said. But I just can’t shake off that feeling.”

 

Marco put a placating hand on Mats, who looked downright distressed right now. “Neven can’t be the only one in the emergency room that night. What about the others working there?”

 

At this, Mats actually shuddered. “I did talk to the technician who worked that shift that night. He, er, wasn’t very helpful. In the end, he basically told me that whatever was on the record was correct. Or something similar to that.”

 

“This doesn’t sound very convincing. Did you believe him?”

 

“Um, I wasn’t sure.”

 

Marco was astonished to find Mats being so vague about such an important piece of information. It was so un-Mats-ish that he had to ask, “What do you mean you weren’t sure. Come on Mats! You’re talking to a friend. Now is not the time to be politically correct!”

 

Mats bursted out as if he couldn’t help himself. “You try talking to Mario Balotelli. Most of the time I was wondering if I was in a mental asylum or some sort of strange parallel universe! The conversation was so ridiculous that I was totally distracted and almost forgot what I went there to ask him about. I thought I was losing my mind! Heaven forbid that I have to talk to him again!”

 

Marco was now practically gaping at Mats gobsmacked. For Mats to admit that he had been distracted at work was bad enough. For him to confess that he was losing his mind was taking things to a whole new level. 

 

Apparently annoyed by Marco’s reaction, Mats snapped impatiently. “For heaven’s sake Marco, stop gaping like a gormless idiot. You look like a goldfish out of water right now.”

 

With some difficulty, Marco managed to pull himself back together. “Basically you couldn’t make up your mind now and has decided to ask for my help.”

 

Mats gave him an angry look before conceding, “Yes that sounds about right. But please do this discretely. The case on Héctor has been considered closed and no one was questioning Neven on his statement. I don’t want to cause extra trouble nor draw any unwanted attention on Neven.”

 

Marco looked at Mats and felt a great deal of sympathy for his friend. Mats was still trying to protect Neven even after what had happened between Neven and Erik tonight. He asked Mats softly, “You still love him don’t you?”

 

Mats remained silent for a minute before saying, “I am still in love with Neven and will always love him no matter what happens. Nothing will ever change that. Nobody could ever replace Neven and I doubt that my life would ever be whole again without him.”

 

Marco couldn’t help but ask, “Why did you break up with him in the first place?! You know he felt the same way about you!”

 

Mats was no longer looking at Marco when he answered. “Not all of us are born free Marco. Sometimes you have to make choices according to your head rather than your heart. I love Neven more than anything in the world. I’ve never loved anyone like that, nor will I ever love anyone else like that. Yet I also know that I have certain responsibilities I have to fulfil. Besides, Neven deserves someone better. He deserves someone who’s freer, without baggages or shackles, and I could never be that person. By keeping him with me for my selfish reasons, I was trapping him. I could not bear the thought of Neven being trapped or miserable because of me so I had to set him free. Because I love him so much I’ve always wanted him to be happy. So I let him go, even though it broke my heart to pieces to do so. But if I couldn’t give him what he deserves, at least I should give him the chance to find someone else who can. Because I know he will find someone. No matter how hard it may seem, Neven will move on and find his happiness. It’s just who he is, much braver than I am, than I ever will be, and what I love about him.” His focus was not on Marco but on rather somewhere distant, as if he was trying to find Neven despite the distance between them. Marco felt a lump rise in his throat. 

 

Mats smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. After all, I’m luckier than most and I’ve got Cathy, who I care for very much indeed. If I’m entirely honest with myself, I have to admit that her courage and kindness reminded me a lot of Neven sometimes. So I’m as happy as I could be and I’m grateful for it. Anyway,” he spoke with finality in his voice, “I believe it would be best for you to take a look at the case. You’re the detective after all. Normally I would encourage you to speak to the technician but in the case of Mario Balotelli, I’ll leave it to your own judgment.”

 

Marco nodded, “I’d definitely try talking to this Mario Balotelli. As a matter of fact, do you know which days of the week he usually works?”

 

Mats actually snorted, “He normally works the night shift and he is in the clinic Monday through Friday. How he manages that, I have no clue. But I’ve given up the hope of applying any common sense on him since I first met him so here you go. I bet he’s in the emergency room right now as we speak.”

 

Now Marco was really intrigued. “I will talk to him tonight then, if I can catch him. Neven is not working tonight, which will make things easier and less awkward. I don’t really feel like sleeping tonight anyway.” He mumbled because even though he had moved on, Mario’s engagement still hurt him and he had absolute no desire to go back to his empty flat any time soon. Thankfully, Mats didn’t pry into the matter and simply nodded, “You will probably manage to catch him. Just be careful. Anything could happen when you’re dealing with Mario Balotelli.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marien-Klinik was right around the corner from the coffee shop, which partially explained why Mats favoured this place so much. Since he wasn’t sure how long his conversation with Mario Balotelli might be, Marco declined Mats’ half-hearted offer to wait for him and give him a lift home. Mats didn’t insist like he would normally have done. In fact, he looked quite grateful and bid Marco goodnight before leaving hastily, as if he was afraid Marco might change his mind and ask Mats to go with him. Now Marco was getting really concerned about this Mario Balotelli. 

 

After he had arrived at the emergency room of Marien-Klinik at midnight, Marco found it to be completely empty, which was not surprising considering the size of the clinic. The only one there was a young man sitting behind the reception desk. He had a bored expression on his dark face and some ridiculous hairdo that almost convinced Marco that he was none other than Mario Balotelli. As Marco approached, the young man looked up and asked lazily, “What's your problem?”

 

So probably Mario Balotelli, Marco thought to himself before blurting out. “Er, Mario Balotelli.”

 

The young man gave Marco a long calculating look before saying, “That's not a disease we know of.”

 

Marco blinked confusedly. “Wha.. what?”

 

The look in the young man’s face clearly indicated that he found Marco rather dimwitted. “I said, Mario Balotelli is not a disease we know of.”

 

Marco felt like he was losing the conversation already, which was a bad sign since the conversation had barely started! “I didn’t say it was.”

 

The young man rolled his eyes and said very slowly, as if explaining something very simple to someone very obtuse. “This is a hospital. You come here because you are sick. I asked you what your problem was. You said it was Mario Balotelli. But Mario Balotelli is not a disease we know of so we cannot treat you.”

 

Marco felt the desperate need to facepalm. “No, I didn’t have Mario Balotelli. I mean, I need Mario Balotelli but not like that.” He took a deep breath to compose himself. “I would like to speak to Mr Mario Balotelli.”

 

The young man raised an eyebrow. “I am Mario Balotelli. Who are you?”

 

“My name is Marco Reus. I…”

 

“A-ha, you’re Neven’s copper friend.” Mario interrupted Marco.

 

“What? Oh yeah, I suppose. I didn’t know Neven would, well, never mind.” Marco’s voice trailed off. This turned out to be much more difficult than he had anticipated. He wasn’t sure how he could broach the subject delicately. 

 

Mario, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what he was doing. “May I see your ID please?”

 

“My ID? Oh yes of course. Here you go.”

 

After examining the ID carefully for a second, Mario started typing something into the computer. Marco was feeling nervous. He was hoping this would be a discreet visit and certainly wasn’t expecting to have it on file. When Mario finished typing, he asked, “What is your insurance?”

 

“Wh… what? I… I don’t understand. This is irrelevant really.”

 

Mario gave him a stern look. “Mr Reus, this is a hospital. It’s our protocol to check the insurance of every patient before they can receive treatment.”

 

“But I’m not a patient!”

 

“Then why are you here?”

 

Marco was really losing it. “Look, I need to speak to you about…”

 

But again, he was interrupted by Mario. “Fine. You need my help and I will make an exception for you because you’re Neven’s friend. So no insurance.” He typed something else into the computer before rising from his seat and said, “Follow me please.”

 

Two minutes later, Marco found himself in an examination room, face-to-face with Mario Balotelli, who gestured him to sit on the bed.

 

“So, I figure we should run some standard blood test on you first. A urine test may be necessary but that can wait after the blood test results come back.”

 

“Wait, what?!” Marco almost started shrieking.

 

Mario gave him a reproachful look. “Look Mr Reus, it would be really nice if you can lower your voice and cooperate. We cannot properly diagnose you without running some basic tests.”

 

“Bu… But I don’t have any, any pro.. problems!” Marco stammered, utterly frustrated with the whole situation.

 

Mario put his hand on Marco’s shoulder in a supposedly soothing way. “Don’t worry Mr Reus. What you’re experiencing are all common symptoms, though it can be a tad scary at first. Rest assured that you’re in very capable hands now.”

 

“What symptoms?” Marco found his pitch rising with every syllable he uttered.

 

“Well, you were clearly experience neurogenic stuttering and difficulty with speech, which could be caused by cerebrovascular accident, head trauma, degenerative diseases, such as Parkinson’s disease, or other diseases. Knowing your occupation, I would suspect head trauma but we need to run a few tests on you to be sure.”

 

“I don’t have head trauma! I didn’t smack my head on anything!”

 

Mario nodded sympathetically, “Of course, memory loss is another common symptom of head trauma. Now if you please, I just need to take a little blood from you.” With that, he pulled a strange apparatus out of thin air.

 

“What the hell was that?!” Marco’s voice was so high-pitched that he was sure that only bats could hear him now.

 

“This? It’s my personal invention! Cool isn’t it?” Mario said proudly.

 

Marco was rendered utterly speechless. The thing staring at him was downright ridiculous. It’s made from a syringe, that much Marco could tell. But towards the plunger end of the barrel, there were two small plastic bags hanging down either side of the barrel. Marco thought vaguely that Mario must have drilled two holes on the barrel to attach the bags on. Right now the bags were deflated, but if they were filled with liquid…

 

“Heaven forbid! There is no way in hell I’m going to let myself be poked by some syringe-penis!” 

 

Mario looked mildly surprised by Marco’s outburst. “It’s very useful actually. It increases the volume of the syringe dramatically without scaring the patients. You know how some people get when they see a thick barrel. It’s also significantly lighter and much easier to handle. In fact, if you hold the plastic bag like this…”

 

Marco had had enough. “Thank you very much Mr Balotelli! But I’m really done here. I’m just going to go home and drink myself to death so I can pretend none of these had actually happened. Good night.” With this, he charged out of the examination room, with Mario shouting behind him, “Are you sure? Head trauma is a serious problem and alcohol definitely won’t help!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was my feeble attempt at writing real cases. It had undoubtedly failed and taken a direction I had not anticipated. I blame the two glasses of wine I had before I wrote it. Well, I hope next chapter will be a little bit more serious.


	6. Still Waters Run Deep and Case 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco had managed to get some help on the case of Mr Abramovich, whether he wanted it or not. David turned out to be the voice of reason and Joe the tech guru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is when I start analysing real cases. After spending considerable amount of time in research, I realised that the best way to do this is to make things up. Sorry about that lol.
> 
> Disclaimer: most of what I wrote in the analysis part about database and virus are total bollocks.

When Marco showed up late in the office the next day, bleary-eyed with a compounding headache, he was greeted with Olivier’s “Morning Marco. You look like death warmed up! Had too much fun last night?” Feeling too tired to fire a response back, Marco merely rolled his eyes and flipped the bird at Olivier before sitting down and planting his face into his desk. 

 

“Coffee?”

 

Marco glanced up to see Erik standing next to his desk with two cups of coffee. He accepted it gratefully and the warm coffee made him feel much more alive. Erik pulled his chair over and sat down next him.

 

“So, do you want to tell me what happened last night?”

 

Marco was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

 

Erik rolled his eyes and said impatiently, “Oh come off it Marco. You were talking to Mats at dinner last night!”

 

“Oh well spotted! Thanks for pointing out the obvious Erik,” said Marco sarcastically. “Do you wish to tell me what I had for dinner last night as well? Or that I was talking to David and Joe?”

 

“But we never discussed anything related to a case.” David’s quiet voice came from behind. Marco spun his head around so fast he almost sprained his neck. Sure enough, David was walking towards them with Joe next to him. Joe was beaming so brightly that it almost hurt Marco’s eyes. Unless Marco was hallucinating, which wouldn’t so surprising given his current state, David was speaking in slow and accented German. “You speak German.”

 

David chuckled, “You really think they’d let us come here without knowing any German at all? Yes, we know German. Not well enough that we’d feel comfortable speaking in public. But well enough we can carry out our day-to-day activities without imposing too much trouble on you lot. Of course we still need your help when it comes to some jargons and complicated words. And please do speak slowly and clearly. Your friend Neven’s accent almost killed me last night.”

 

“David got the highest score in German written test before we left.” Joe said proudly in German with such an atrocious accent that it made Marco and Erik wince. “Anyway, we overheard you and Mats talking about his inheritance case.”

 

“Since Mats specialises in criminal law, this case must be more than just a simple inheritance one. Mats also said that it’s related to an open case for a wealthy client. The only thing that fits all the description above is the unsolved murder of Mr Andrei Abramovich.” David spoke in the same slow German but the tone in his voice was confident.

 

Erik continued, “When you didn’t show up on time this morning, David and Joe came to find me. We went over some basic details about the case. We figured that you must be out talking to people either late last night or this morning.”

 

“Judging by the look of death on your face, our money is on the late night excursion that probably didn’t go very well.” Joe could hardly conceal the excitement in his voice. “So spill!”

 

Marco was quite impressed. He could see them working together as a team already. With that being said, he still didn’t feel comfortable sharing the information with them. After all, it was related to Neven. The last person he wanted to share the information with would be Erik.

 

David sighed. “Marco, we know it’s a delicate situation, especially since your friend Neven was involved.”

 

Marco almost jumped from his seat. How could they know? Had more people suspect Neven already? Before he could do anything, Joe’s strong hand was on his shoulder. David continued.

 

“Don’t worry. Nobody suspected anything. We simply put the dots together. Mats wouldn’t ask to speak to you in private if the matter weren’t sensitive. It was also probably just his instinct, rather than any concrete proof. Otherwise he would have reported it to the police, even though it might concern his friend. He was engaged in a rather heated discussion with Neven before we interrupted them so they were clearly talking about something important. When Neven got up to greet us, the expression on his face could almost be described as relief, while Mats looked somewhat cross. Considering that Neven was the one who provided evidence for Héctor Bellerín’s alibi, it would be safe to assume that Mats didn’t completely buy the story but could find no evidence in his suspicion. So he talked to Neven about it and got nothing out of the conversation. As the last resort, Mats came to you, hoping that you could use your expertise to prove him mad while keeping it a secret. Am I correct?”

 

Marco was pretty speechless. In all honesty, there was nothing else he could say anyway. David got it all right. Joe said cheerful, “I’ll take your silence as tacit agreement then. Bravo David!”

 

Erik added quietly, “It doesn’t have to be a formal investigation. We can do this after work and believe me, I don’t want this to cause any unnecessary trouble for Neven either.” He blushed slightly at the looks others gave him. “We just thought that we might be able to offer some new insight into the case.”

 

Before Marco could reply, they were interrupted by a loud banging noise from the direction of the laboratory. Slightly startled, they all turned their heads and found İlkay storming past them, his usually neat hair in complete disarray. Marco closed his mouth. He knew this could only mean one thing: İlkay and Shinji found nothing in the evidence of the hit-and-run case. Sure enough, Shinji walked out of the laboratory moments later, looking thoroughly put-upon. 

 

Mesut approached Shinji carefully and asked, “I take it that the evidence was not so helpful?”

 

Shinji sighed, “Not really. Well, our hopes were not up too high but still. We couldn’t find any information to support the claim. The statements of the passengers were contradicting each other. They claimed that the car that hit them was an SUV, though they could not remember the brand nor the make of the car. We had to search through the data of all the SUVs and none of them were tall enough to cause those damages in the car. A couple models came close but still fell a couple inches short.”

 

“What about the actual scene? Didn’t the other car leave anything behind?” Olivier joined the conversation as well.

 

“Maybe they did, but like I said, those gits in the patrolling office had messed it up before we could collect them,” said İlkay darkly, who had just returned with two gigantic mugs of coffee and handed one to Shinji. “A bunch of dung-heads if you ask me.”

 

“Can we prove it’s an insurance fraud then?” asked Mesut.

 

“Unfortunately, not yet. The witness claimed that she saw something hitting the car before running away. So we have to talk to her to either prove or disprove our theory.” Shinji flipped through his notes, “We have her address on record and she said she would be free today.” He looked up at İlkay, “I suppose we should just go. To get it over with. I can go find Marcel now. He should come with us since it’s a traffic case.”

 

İlkay pouted. “Easy for you to say Shinji. You’re not the one being harassed by the hag.”

 

“Well,” Olivier combed one hand through his heavily gelled hair, “would it help if Mesut and I go with you?”

 

İlkay’s face lit up almost immediately. “That would be perfect. I mean it’s all for team bonding and all that rubbish, isn’t it?” He clapped his hands together excitedly, “Now that you’ll be there, I reckon she will turn her attention to you. She has such horrible taste that she’s bound to like you.”

 

Mesut coughed pointedly while the others roared with laughter. İlkay didn’t look sorry in the slightest. “Look mate, no offence. I’m sure your taste is alright normally. Must have hit your head the day you fell for him so it wasn’t really your fault. Come on, let’s get a move on. I still want to come back here before 6.”

 

After they had left with Marcel, Erik turned to Marco, “So what do you say? Are we in or not?”

 

Marco sighed. He saw no way around this. “Fine. We’ll work on this together. But we must keep it a secret!” He added thoughtfully, “I don’t know when we’ll have time to work on this. I still have to finish my case reports.”

 

David offered, “Why don’t you leave them to me? That way I can know more about the cases and how things work here. Besides, I’m very good with writing reports.” 

 

“It’s true.” Joe chimed in, “David wrote all mine. In return, I gave him amazing he…”

 

“Thank you Joe for the compliment!” David cut him off firmly while Erik and Marco laughed loudly.

 

“Well, if that’s the case, I suppose we could get started now. Let’s go into my and Erik’s laboratory. It’s at the end of the hall so we wouldn’t be disturbed.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Once they’re inside the laboratory, Marco logged in to the desktop to find the shared folder on Abramovich’s case. Then he asked the important question, “How much do you know about the case anyway?”

 

Erik shrugged, “Pretty all the key points really. It had been plastered on the front page of Ruhr Nachrichtenfor a fortnight after it had happened so it was kind of hard to miss. The coverage was also very detailed and accurate, which is rare these days. Of course, a lot of the information, like Héctor’s alibi, is not available to the public. So we did our research this morning.”

 

David nodded, “We went through half of the case files this morning.”

 

“You did?” Marco couldn’t help but ask. It took him almost two days to go through everything. 

 

Joe grinned again, “David’s the man. To be honest, as far as we can see, there wasn’t a lot of information. This was clearly done by some professionals. I mean no signs of forced entry, no strangers’ fingerprints or body hair samples, nothing! They did the DNA analysis and everything from the crime scene belonged to the Abramovichs, the staff in their mansion, and their friends. No wonder they were at a total loss and had to resort to combing through Andrei Abramovich’s contact book to interrogate everyone on it. Anyway, we were looking at the log file of the central surveillance system of Andrei Abramovich’s house before you came in.”

 

Marco remembered that bit. The whole system shut down the day of the murder and hadn’t been fixed, which was why there was no video nor any record in the system. He asked hopefully, “Did you find anything?”

 

Joe shook his head, “Not something that could help us. The database was attacked by a virus and thus went into the lockdown mode. Oh no, not the outside attack,” added Joe hastily when he saw the look on Marco’s face. “The virus was introduced into the system because the daft security bloke was downloading some porn into his work desktop. Unfortunately it sat on the network so the ruddy thing started spreading throughout the network like a plague. It even affected Andrei Abramovich’s laptop. He sacked the idiot immediately, according to this security chap’s testimony anyway. I don’t think he has anything to do with it though. He’s Russian and can barely speak German. This Benedikt chap complained about that in the notes. I like him,” added Joe, “He makes reading notes so much more interesting.”

 

Erik ignored his last comment. “So you are saying that it was just a coincidence that the murder happened to take place the same day, after the system shut down? This sounds fishy.”

 

Joe made a face, “It was hardly a secret. Andrei Abramovich seemed to have a really bad temper and he was heard yelling at this security bloke for a good 30 minutes, before throwing him and his things unceremoniously out of the manor. It was quite a scene and anyone who were around in the area would know.”

 

“So if this is done by a professional group and they had a source close to the area…”

 

“They would know at once, exactly.” Joe nodded.

 

“The murder happened late that night. Couldn’t they fix it before then?” Erik asked curiously.

 

Joe shook his head. “The idiot downloaded the file at around 2 pm in the afternoon. The virus spread to the database at around 2:30pm but and the system didn’t shut down until around 3 pm. It is designed to lock down only if the threat is deemed severe enough. Otherwise the system will lock itself down at every threat. But if a severe threat is discovered, the system has to run some queries to the database to determine how much data and how many files are affected and damaged. And for a big database like this, the queries could easily take up to 3 hours. Then it will try to isolate the damaged files and separate the contaminated data into the disaster recovery table, which will take another couple hours. Afterwards it will try to fix the data and files and to get rid of the virus. The one they had wipes out any breaks on the loops and basically makes the system run loops nonstop. When you have so many loops running nonstop at the same time, the memory runs out and system shuts down. According to their log file, they restarted the system a couple times, only to have it shut down afterwards. So they gave up at around 8 pm and probably thought they could afford to wait until the day after to fix it. Turns out they had to pay a pretty high price.”

 

Erik and Marco were both staring at Joe with their mouths open. David was smiling at Joe. Joe scratched his head somewhat awkwardly. “Well, I got my master’s degree in database management and network security. So I reckon I’m pretty good with technology.” 

 

“That analysis was absolutely wicked.” Marco said sincerely, clearly impressed. Joe beamed at him.

 

“Okay. So the surveillance camera in Abramovich manor won’t help us. What about the security camera at the hospital? They can’t stop working too can they?” Erik asked.

 

“They have looked at that before they even talked to Héctor.” Marco said as he scrolled through the files, “It all seemed to match. The video showed that Héctor was brought in before his check-in time at 1:43 am and that he left the hospital after he checked out at 5:07 am. But then again, we’re not computer expert. Could they have modified the video?” He asked Joe.

 

Joe hesitated, “It's hard to tell unless I examine the video files closely. It is possible but to do it right without trace is almost impossible. I don’t think they would be stupid enough to even attempt it. It’s too easy to spot.”

 

Marco felt frustrated. “So we’re at a dead end then. We have to take Neven and that barmy technician’s word for it.”

 

“What barmy technician?” David asked at once.

 

“Trust me, you never want to go near him if you could help it. I mean we have dealt with the likes of Sergio Ramos, who is basically everyone’s nightmare. İlkay can be off his rocker sometimes too but still, they are just clumsy and weird. At least their sanities are intact. This technician, Mario Balotelli, must have migrated here from the outer space!” Marco then proceeded to describe his entire encounter with Mario Balotelli the night before. After the story had been told, there was utter silence in the room.

 

“Wow,” Joe was the one who broke it, “I thought Olivier was bad. And we have to talk to this Mario Balotelli?”

 

“If nothing else turns up, we have to.” Marco sighed heavily.

 

“Right, I better take a look at those videos then!” Joe said determinedly and grabbed a laptop on the desk to start analysing the videos. 

 

Marco turned to David and Erik. “What do you think?”

 

David shook his head slowly, “I don’t think the videos are manipulated, not in the crude sense anyway. We’ll wait for Joe’s analysis of course but I just don’t see it being so straightforward.”

 

“Was there another party in the accident? Who brought Héctor in to the emergency room?” asked Erik.

 

Marco thought for a moment, trying to remember what Benedikt told him about that. “I think there was another person involved in the accident. Benedikt didn’t tell me his name though. Just told me that he testified in favour of Héctor as well. I don’t think they dug any deeper than that.”

 

Erik looked more hopeful now. “Let’s at least take a look at his testimony. Maybe we can find something there.”

 

Seeing that they have no other option, both Marco and David agreed. It took them a while to locate the correct file. When they opened it, they found it incredibly short. No longer than a page, it contained the basic information of the other party and his testimony that the accident happened at around 1:35 am and that he accompanied Héctor Bellerín to the hospital at around 1:45 am. When Erik opened the other files in the same folder, he found the scanned ID of the man and some pictures of the accident scene, clearly taken by the man using his iPhone because the quality of the pictures was simply abysmal. 

 

“I think I’ve seen this man before,” mused Erik aloud as he was looking at the man’s ID. “Is he someone fam…” As he turned around, he stopped mid-sentence at the shocked expression on Marco’s face. “What’s the matter Marco? Do you know this man?”

 

“This, this, I mean, it’s Tomáš Rosický!” Marco said in a dreamy voice. Both Erik and David looked rather alarmed now.

 

“Who again?” Erik asked tentatively.

 

“Tomáš Rosický! The best journalist in the world! He used to be the journalist for Die Zeit in Dortmund. His column on economy, social issues, crime, and international relations is simply divine. Now he’s a full-time freelance writer. He used to give talks in my university and his speeches on crime and social justice are what got me interested in being a policeman in the first place. Such a charismatic man! He’s always been my idol and I copied everything about him!” Marco gushed about Tomáš Rosický in an absolutely sickening manner.

 

“Blimey, you remind me of those high school fangirls.” Erik chuckled. “At least you have better taste. So I suppose you don’t think he was lying right?”

 

Marco’s smile fell. “I hate to think that Tomáš Rosický lied or was involved in any way in a crime. But again, my personal feelings don’t matter in the case.”

 

David, on the other hand, was lost in his thought. When Erik and Marco prompted him, he said hesitantly. “I just, well, it’s just a hunch okay. So don’t rip my head off Marco.”

 

“Oh no!” Marco groaned, “I don’t like the sound of this.”

 

David looked at him almost apologetically. “I’m sorry but it’s just a thought. I’ve read articles from Tomáš Rosický, even talked to him in person a couple times. He used to travel to London quite often when he was still with Die Zeit. He’s a very clever and knowledgeable man. He was particularly interested in crime sciences and was a good friend of my advisor in university.”

 

“Are you telling me that he could be the mastermind behind this?” asked Erik incredulously.

 

“All I’m saying is that this murder was done in a very clever way and this Tomáš Rosický could potentially pull it off. Whether he was involved or not, I cannot say.”

 

Marco had to agree with David. “As much as I hate to think about that possibility, Tomáš is probably qualified enough to be the mastermind. But again, these are just speculations, not even circumstantial evidence. For one thing, he doesn’t have a motive.”

 

David shrugged, “Depends on your definition of motives. Does the sense of justice count?”

 

“What?” Erik and Marco asked in unison.

 

“Look,” said David patiently, “we all know how strongly Tomáš feels about justice and how much he despises those people who became rich using some, er, non-conventional and probably not so legal means. Andrei Abramovich is most likely one of them. His service contracting company more than tripled its size after the reconstruction work of the Bosnian war region. The whole process was murky at best. His company also participated in the post-war reconstruction at Afghanistan, which we all know was a total catastrophe. His company, however, was not affected. On the contrary, they even increased their revenue that year. What if Tomáš, being a journalist, had access to information about Abramovich’s involvement in those occasions? Wouldn’t it be natural for him to feel that he’s compelled to do something about it? But he would know from experience how hard it is to tackle crimes like this. So what if he decided to resort to more violent methods after he tried all other alternatives? Again, I’m not saying that he did or that Abramovich was involved in any illegal activities. I’m merely stating that this is a possibility.”

“So what do we do now?” Erik finally broke the stunned silence. “Go talk to Tomáš?”

 

Marco thought this was a bad idea. “We don’t have the reason nor the authority to talk to him. Yes, we could try approach him in private. But he has no obligation to cooperate with us. We don’t know him after all and he has every right to feel alarmed when we approach him.”

 

David nodded in agreement. “We cannot act on this until we have some concrete proof to suggest that he might be lying. I think we have to go back to the evidence. Let’s hope Joe find something.”

 

“Wait a minute.” Erik turned quickly to the desktop and right-clicked on the photo Tomáš took of the accident scene. “Oh, it is taken at the right time.” He said with disappointment.

 

This didn’t surprise Marco at all. Either Tomáš was innocent (Marco secretly hoped this was the case), or he was the mastermind who was so good at his scheme that it seemed unlikely for him to forget details like this. 

 

“Maybe,” David said tentatively, “we should ask someone else’s opinion on the matter, if Joe’s research didn’t turn out anything interesting.”

 

Marco felt anxious. This whole thing had already gone out of hands and he had no intention to involve anyone else. “Are you sure? Who do you have in mind?”

 

“Please don’t get worked up about it. But Olivier is really the expert on criminal psychology,” said David hastily, as if he feared that he might be interrupted at any second. “He’s usually the one doing the talking and somehow people tend to be less tense around him. Probably because they don’t take him that seriously and feel less threatened by him. Either way, he uses that to his advantage. He’s also done a lot of criminal profiling so he usually has a good feeling if a theory is worth pursuing. I think it would be best for him to take a look at our analysis and tell us if it even makes sense. Normally I would suggest we take him when we talk to witnesses. But in this case, since Neven is your friend, he might feel less comfortable if we bring too many people with us. Oh and don’t worry, Olivier is totally trustworthy. He may not look it but he can be silent as the grave when needed.”

 

Marco found himself once again forced to be convinced by the logic of David’s argument. Well, he thought reluctantly to himself, at least we know who the voice of reason is.

 

Erik seemed to be thinking the same thing, as he sat down in front of the desktop. “Olivier won’t be back anytime soon. In the meantime, let me finish all the files and see if I can find anything we’ve missed.”

 

David walked over and sat down next to Joe, talking to him quietly. Joe kept shaking his head while his fingers scrolled the mouse frantically. Marco massaged his temple. He thought he could predict the results of Joe’s analysis already. Maybe they were being paranoid. Maybe Héctor, Neven, and Tomáš really had nothing to do with it at all, like the evidence suggested. Yet if he were completely honest with himself, his instinct was telling him something else. He had always relied on his instinct when it came to complex crimes, which had helped him countless times and rarely proved wrong. Moreover, both David and Mats, who were both very sharp, had the same nagging feeling that something was off. Marco sighed. He’d better help Erik go through the files.

 

After another hour, Joe finally let out a wail. Erik looked up from the desktop, as Joe and David approached them, both looking disgruntled. “So nothing in the video then?”

 

“Nothing!” Joe said dramatically. “There was no trace of modification in the video. At least none I can tell. I admit I don’t have a PhD in video editing but I should be able to tell if a video is fake or not. But the videos are real and I don’t see any problems with it.”

 

“I’ve also gone through the rest of the files. Nothing worth pursuing popped up either.” Erik looked between Marco and David. “I don’t think we can find anything else. Maybe we should just, you know, call it a day.”

 

Marco had to agree with him. It was almost 2 pm and they had spent almost 4 hours on this case going nowhere. “Let’s order lunch first. We can’t think properly on an empty stomach.”

 

As if on cue, Joe’s stomach made a loud growling noise. They laughed and Marco quickly placed a lunch order online. Luckily the food arrived fast enough before Joe passed out from hunger. As they tucked in to their food, David finally spoke, very slowly.

 

“You know, there is one last possibility that could explain the seemingly consistent evidence.”

 

Marco almost choked on his food. “Blimey, how many theories do you have David?”

 

Joe said rather unintelligibly with his mouth so stuffed with food, “David has a great imagination, which can be useful when we’re hav…”

 

“For heaven’s sake Joe!” The tips of David’s ears had turned pink. He turned back to Marco and Erik. “As I was saying, there was only one more possibility. Someone could have changed the time in the system from the summer time to the standard time. That would move the clock back for exactly one hour. If they changed the clock at, say, 2 am, and then changed it back at 4 am. All the time stamps during that two-hour window would be 1 hour early.”

 

“If that’s the case, they had to change the time for the whole network wouldn’t they? You have people walking around in the hospital, records for other patients being updated. If the time was changed, it would be reflected in those as well. Someone was bound to notice the discrepancies. Besides, if you change the time, you have to change it back. That would leave a one-hour gap, especially for the video.” Erik didn’t sound convinced.

 

“Actually, not really. The videos and the patient medical record systems are almost always sitting on different servers. After all, you have critical patient information that is safer to stay on its own server. In the emergency room, the only software used is the registration system. So they only need to change the server time when Héctor registered and when he checked out, which was only 10 min total. For the video server, they would need to change the time for the entire two hours. They also need to change the time for another hour worth of video. That way when the video files are stored, it would be stored with the tampered time. Because the system automatically organises the files chronologically, those files would be organised in different order, leaving no gap and no trace of video modification.” Joe looked very serious.

 

“Since the Marien Klinik is small enough, they only have surveillance cameras at the entrance and exit of the hospital. If no one other than Héctor entered and left the clinic during that time, his record would be the only one and there wouldn’t be a problem of discrepancy,” added David.

 

“Okay, if hypothetically speaking, someone did change the time. Isn’t that recorded in the server log files?” Marco asked.

 

Joe shrugged, “Yeah but it wasn’t included in the evidence. First of all, we’re not authorised to get those log file unless we have a search warrant. Secondly, it’s too late anyway. A good IT person would have changed it by now.”

 

Marco took a deep breath. “Let’s talk to Olivier when he gets back. If he thinks it’s a plausible theory, we will decide if we want to bring this up to Kehli and Roman to get a search warrant. If he thinks we’re being paranoid, then we drop it. We may need to speak to Neven, we may not. We’ll wait to see what Olivier thinks.”

 

They all nodded their agreement. After lunch, David and Marco went to Marco’s case reports. Joe decided to spend his time going through the videos again to kill some time. Erik meanwhile was reading through all the laboratory reports in this case.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The first sign of İlkay, Shinji, Mesut, and Olivier’s return a couple hours later was Roman’s loud cursing. The second sign was a pungent nauseating smell that…

 

“Isn’t that the smell of...” Erik asked tentatively before David and Joe jumped out of their seats and charged out of the room. 

 

Marco lingered behind to answer Erik’s question, “Yes, it sure as hell is the smell of a decomposing body. They certainly don’t let us rest, do they?” He thought for a moment and rummaged a tube of Wicks VapoRub out his pocket. “Here, put some on your upper lip.”

 

“Why?”

 

Marco grimaced. “The first time I came close to a decomposing body, I puked so badly that I almost got sick on Roman. This usually helps. Today is probably the first time you come so close to one so you need all the help you can get. I reckon İlkay might do a murder if you get sick on his precious dead body.”

 

Erik took the ointment and put some on his upper lip, took a deep breath and walked out the laboratory with Marco. Both Roman and Kehli were out of their rooms now, adding to the general chaos in the room. As they got closer to the body, blocked from view by so many people around it, the smell got stronger and Erik’s face turned paler by each step. 

 

“Out of the way! Out of the way! We have to get the body to the laboratory now!” İlkay was shouting, clearly unperturbed by the smell. Shinji was silently pushing people out of the way while keeping his mouth wisely shut. Marco grabbed Mesut around the elbow.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Do you want to hear the good news or the bad news?”

 

“There was good news?” Marco found it highly unlikely in face of a decomposing body.

 

Mesut sighed, “It's not much but it’s good news nonetheless. The whole hit-and-run case was a fraud. The hag, I mean, the witness, admitted to Olivier that she wasn’t paying attention when the accident happened and thus didn’t actually see anything. She was only saying it so she could see İlkay again. Speaking of bad taste! So we can at least pass that one on to the civil section. The bad news is, of course, instead of a hit-and-run case, we now have a potential murder case to work on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there has been a delay in the update. I was at a friend's wedding last weekend. I'm hoping I can finish Case 0 in the next chapter and also start Case 1. More characters will be introduced, but Lewy will have to wait to meet Marco until Case 1 is done :)


	7. Case 1 - The French Peacock With a Brain and a Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first case was discovered: the death of a university girl from Brazil, most likely from drug overdose. Marco and Olivier went to collect evidence and interview the neighbours while the other boys were working on the forensic analysis. Olivier also offered his professional opinion on the case of Mr Andrei Abramovich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the first case. Again I had to resort to my imaginations to make things work. The analysis done by Olivier on criminal profiling was actually done by, well, me... So please don't use it as reference to judge others' tendency of becoming serial killers lol.

“How did you find the body?” Marco asked Mesut, as he, Mesut and Erik made their way to the laboratory.

 

“Like I said, we were interviewing the witness, Daniella Semaan, whose German was simply awful. İlkay was quite right by the way. She threw herself at Olivier the moment he stepped into her flat. Olivier did the majority of the talking because he was so good at wheedling information out people, especially those who fall for his charm. Shinji was taking notes, which left İlkay and myself free to wander around. İlkay stayed to listen of course. It was his case after all. But I couldn’t stand her German and the smell in her room. I swear she must have poured the entire bottle of perfume on herself and I have a rather sensitive nose. So I had to step to the window of her flat for some fresh air. When I opened the window, however, my nose was assaulted with the smell of the decomposing body from the flat next door.”

 

“How come no one noticed it before?” mumbled Erik, hardly intelligible as he was trying his best not to open his mouth when he spoke.

 

“The flat where we found the body was at the very end of the floor so Ms Semaan’s flat was its only neighbour. Ms Semaan told us that she never opens her window because she was, eh, too delicate to be subjected to the nasty smells of the outside, or some nonsense like that. Her word, not mine.” He added at the disgusted look on Marco’s face. “The smell of the corpse was actually very subtle, mixed with the smell of lavender. It’s sort of hard to tell when you’re outside the flat unless you’ve worked in crime scenes a lot and are very sensitive to smells like that. So we suspected that a corpse was in the other flat. Ms Semaan apparently didn’t know much about her neighbour. Said that she was a young university student living by herself and pretty much kept to herself. We managed to break into the flat and were greeted with not the corpse but rather the largest sets of scented candle I have ever seen in the living room. It was still burning and that must be why no one noticed anything as they walked by the flat every day. The bedroom door was closed and when we opened it, good gracious, the smell inside was absolutely ghastly. This girl seemed obsessed with scented candles, as there was another set of those in her bedroom. Most of them have burnt down but that might be why the body was decomposing faster than usual. The temperature in the room was hotter than outside. So even though the body is decomposing, I don’t think she’s been dead for more than 24 hours. I mean, her face was still recognisable. Anyway, there she was, Gabriela Costa, lying on her back on the bed, a pile of cocaine powder on her nightstand.”

 

“Drug overdose then?”

 

Mesut nodded, “That's the most probable cause of the death. Of course we have to do the autopsy to know for sure. Speaking of which, I better go and see if I can help İlkay on that. We’ll need your help as well, you know, to go through all the DNA profiling, investigation, interview, etc.”

 

As they filed into the laboratory, they heard İlkay talking to Kehli. “We need someone to go back there and gather more evidence now. Marcel is still there protecting the scene. We haven’t even touched the living room or any other parts of the flat other than the bedroom and study. We have thoroughly searched and photographed those two rooms, as well as the doors and windows. So Shinji can probably analyse the evidence we’ve brought back. Someone also needs to interview the other neighbours. Most of them were not home when we were there. Is there anyone good at researching? We know nothing about the girl at this point. Just to be clear, I’m not doing any of these. I’m not leaving my dear Gabriela until I’m done with her autopsy.”

 

Kehli thought for a moment, and started issuing orders. “İlkay you can stay here with your precious corpse for as long as you want. Mesut will help you.” 

 

İlkay opened his mouth to argue. “Why? I can manage just fine on my own. Besides, if I need anyone, it will be Shinji!”

 

Kehli cut him off, “You didn’t sleep at all last night and you’re only walking and talking because you drank up the entire department’s supply of coffee. Sooner or later you will crash. The same goes for Shinji so I have to separate you. I know I can’t get you home unless I knock you out but at least Mesut will be here to help and catch you when you pass out. He’s got a medical degree and has done numerous autopsies.” İlkay nodded reluctantly and beckoned Mesut towards the corpse. Kehli turned his attention to the rest of the group.

 

“Shinji, why don’t you work with Erik on the DNA profiling and the other evidence? Yes Erik, you can take them to your laboratory before you get sick. Joe you’re the computer expert and David you’re the data guru. You two can do some research about her background. We’ve also got her laptop and mobile for you to analyse. See if you can find anyone who might have a motive. Olivier, go back to her flat and talk to as many people as you can without traumatising them permanently. Marco, you can go to the flat with Olivier to collect more evidence. Keep a leash on him though Marco. And for heaven’s sake Olivier, if you have to give people your number, at least use your own not my office number! I’ve received two phone calls today asking me if I want to spend a steamy night with them!”

 

Olivier grinned. “What can I say? I can’t help that I’m so popular. But I’m not going to make Mesut cross with me by giving away my number.” 

 

Kehli sighed. “Whatever. As long as you don’t give them Roman’s number. We’ve already got a potential murder case to solve now. I don’t want to deal with another murder case committed by my boss.”

 

Olivier smiled triumphantly and walked towards Marco. “Hello blondie. Ready to have some fun with me?”

 

Marco groaned. This was going to be a disaster. When he looked up, he caught David’s eyes, who gave him a significant look. Remembering their previous conversation, he nodded to David before walking away with Olivier.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Once they were in the car park, Olivier turned to Marco. “What do you and David want to talk to me about?”

 

Marco glowered at him. “Is Legilimency a required class in London Police?”

 

Olivier smirked. “Impressed by David, aren’t you? I’m not surprised. David is very clever and good at deduction. He’s also level-headed so he can always think logically. Harty’s a lucky man. But don’t fret. I’m the only mind-reader in our department. It’s part of my job I suppose, to pick up little details about people’s emotions and reactions to certain events and use them to read people. When I saw David gave you that look, I knew he wanted you to talk to me and it’s related to work. So what is it?”

 

Marco, however, was thinking about something else Olivier said. “Is that why you always act stupid and annoying? So you can get a reaction out of people?”

 

Olivier gave a chortle. “I’ll pretend I don’t understand the meaning of your first sentence. Well, you’re right to some extent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m naturally like that, you know, a little flirty and such, and it makes me laugh to see people’s faces when I say and do those things. But I do tend to exaggerate a bit when I’m with other people, sometimes because it amuses me and, I hope, people around me as well, sometimes because people let their guard down when they think I’m just a pretty idiot, and sometimes because I can get a reaction out of people. Those kind of circumstances reveal people’s really character and thoughts. People can pretend all they want when they’re focused. But it’s much more difficult to hide who you really are when you’re annoyed, angry, or stressed. Takes a lot more effort and practice.”

 

So maybe David did have a good point, Marco thought to himself, as they got into the car. Olivier was their best bet. “Okay, we need your help on a case. Before I say anything though, I need you to swear on Mesut’s life that you will keep this a secret.”

 

Olivier flinched. “You really know my weak point now don’t you? Fine, I won’t utter a single word to another soul.”

 

So as Marco was driving them to Gabriela Costa’s flat, he started telling Olivier everything about Andrei Abramovich’s case. Gabriela’s flat is on the outskirts of Dortmund, which would normally take them 20 min to get there. With the horrific afternoon rush hour traffic, the time more than doubled. By the time they got there, Marco had finished recounting the major points of the case. Olivier listened very intently the whole time and remained silent even after Marco finished, pondering the matter. When he finally spoke, there was no trace of hesitancy in his voice.

 

“Well frankly Marco, I don’t think your suspicion is worth pursuing. Is there a possibility that your instincts were correct? Absolutely. Is it likely? I highly doubt it. Of course I’m relying solely on your descriptions of the case, which may be biased. But from what I heard, none of the parties you suspect have any real motives or any criminal history. Their personalities don’t fit into the criminal kind either. Let’s go through each one of them. Héctor Bellerín is a young aspiring student who studies economy, not medicine or science or any other subjects that could be potentially useful when plotting a murder. He comes from a nice loving family and is a model student in the university with no previous history of violence or mental problems. He’s only 20 years old and from what you said, a very social and likeable person. The type of person you’re looking for should be silent, reserved, and maybe mysterious. But most importantly, they always keep to themselves. They could be very nice and very much liked by their acquaintances. But few could claim that they are close friends with that type of person. This way they reduce the risk of letting something slip or being recognised by their friends when they are out doing their secret job. Because they are close to no one, no one can really say if they are behaving strangely. People like Héctor Bellerín simply attract too much attention and give away too much information, which is always deadly for anyone who wishes to carry out a secret mission.”

 

“As for your friend Neven,” Olivier continued as they stepped out of the car, “I had fortunately met him so I feel more confident about my assessment on him. As far as I can tell, Neven doesn’t strike me as someone who can be easily influenced by other people. He has his own strong set of beliefs and doesn’t care what others think about them. So I find it hard to believe that he could be persuaded to join a band of criminals. He’s also fast to act, which is understandable given the nature of his occupation. But this is again not a trait you find in a highly skilled criminal. To commit a crime without getting caught takes long and careful planning. Judging by how fast he opened up to our dear Erik last night, I would guess Neven won’t pass that test.”

 

They were standing outside the block of flats but Olivier stopped. “Let’s finish our conversation before we switch our mind to Miss Gabriela. The last one you suspected, Tomáš Rosický, is even less likely. He’s got a major flaw: he’s somewhat well-known. Of course he’s not a pop star that has paparazzi following him wherever he goes. But he’s recognisable enough in Dortmund that his appearance might draw the attention of other people. So much for a secretive activity huh? Speaking of which, no one in his right mind will ever include someone like that barmy technician in on his plan. He’s just a liability, a bomb ready to set off at any time. So no, I don’t think you’re looking at the right group of people for the murderer of poor Andrei Abramovich. If you want, I can go and talk to Neven and the mental technician. But I seriously doubt that we will find anything and you may just be wasting your time.”

 

Marco chewed on Olivier’s words and had to admit that he’d got a fair point. Feeling finally relieved, he smiled at Olivier. “Many thanks Olivier. This really helps! I’ll talk to Mats about it and hopefully the expert opinion will ease his nerves. Let’s go inside and figure this one out.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When they were in the elevator, Marco asked Olivier. “What do you want to do first? Search her living room or talk to the neighbours?”

 

“Let’s finish the search first. We may be able to find something useful that will help our interview. I hope that poor Marcel bloke hasn’t passed out from the smell.”

 

Sure enough, they found Marcel outside the flat, looking thoroughly miserable. When he spotted them, he almost burst out crying. “I hate İlkay! I thought I’m out of this mess after you lot are here and Marco’s got Erik! But now I’m forced to stay here to smell this horrible stench!”

 

Marco patted Marcel sympathetically. “It shouldn’t take too long. After we finished searching the living room, kitchen, and bathroom, you can go home.”

 

The flat of Gabriela Costa was a neat and smart one. The living room was beautifully decorated with expensive-looking carpets, lush rugs, and beautiful paintings on the wall. The other thing on the wall was the set of scented candles in an elegant candleholder Mesut talked about. Even though they were extinguished, the lavender fragrance was still strong in the air. Marco turned to Olivier, “I thought Mesut said that Miss Costa was a university student.”

 

Olivier nodded, “That's what Ms Semaan told us. We also found her student ID in her bedroom.”

 

“How can she afford to have such a nice flat then? Does her family have a lot of money?”

 

Olivier frowned. “We don’t know that yet. Ms Semaan wasn’t very helpful when it came to giving us information about Gabriela. Apparently Gabriela was from Brazil and only moved to Dortmund from Barcelona not too long ago. Naturally her German wasn’t perfect either. So Ms Semaan has never really talked to Gabriela.”

 

“Well, I hope Joe and David can find enough information about Miss Costa then. Which room do  you want to take?”

 

“I’ll take the bathroom and kitchen if you don’t mind.”

 

Marco shrugged, “Living room sounds good me,” before he put his gloves on and walked towards the coffee table in the middle of the room.

 

After a couple hours of applying fingerprint powder with a brush and lifting fingerprints using lifting tape, Marco managed to get the fingerprints on all smooth surface in the living room. As his neck and hands began to hurt, he heard Olivier walking out of the kitchen.

 

“Any luck in the kitchen and bathroom?” Marco asked, glad for the distraction.

 

“I found some dirty makeup remover wipes in her bathroom that seemed fairly recent. Since she had no make-up on her face, those remover wipes might be used right before her death. There’s no blood on anything. Everything is dry. The toilet seat and lid is left up.”

 

Marco was intrigued. “So she must have male visitors shortly before she died.”

 

“Exactly,” agreed Olivier. “Moreover, in the dustbin in the kitchen, I found two empty bottles of 1982 Bodegas Faustino in the dustbin and an unfinished 1997 Dominio de Pingus in the fridge. Not something everyone can afford. In the kitchen sink, I found two wine glasses and two sets of dirty utensils. One of the wine glasses has faint lipstick on the rim while the other doesn’t. I’ve bagged all of those for further examination. But it seems quite clear that our Miss Costa had male company the night before she died. I also found around 8 takeout boxes from several really expensive restaurants. None of them seems more than a week old. Assuming that Gabriela went to university during the day and only ate at home at night, we can assume that she had guest more than once before she died. Or she had an alarmingly good appetite.”

 

Marco perked up. “Brilliant! This could be extremely valuable! Did you find anything like razors, after shave, or extra toothbrushes in the bathroom? Anything else from the kitchen?”

 

Olivier shook his head. “I checked but found nothing in the bathroom that may indicate another person lives here. Everything there belongs to a young lady. She does have a rather extensive set of beauty products.”

 

“So her male companion is either not close enough to her to stay the night, or not allowed to stay the night because of his situation or her strange preferences.” Marco thought out aloud.

 

“My thoughts precisely. As for the kitchen, there wasn’t anything else really. She clearly didn’t cook so there was no food in the fridge nor any ingredients for cooking. I checked all the clean utensils and lifted some fingerprints but that’s pretty much it. What about you? Any luck in the living room?”

 

Marco cracked his neck. “Don’t get over excited. I haven’t got to that part yet. I’ve been lifting fingerprints for the past two hours. I hope they contain some information to justify my hurting neck. Anyway, let’s take a look at the rest of the room. Where do you want to start?”

 

“The dustbin is always an interesting place to look,” said Olivier and he walked towards the dustbin closer to the door. 

 

Marco looked into the dustbin of close to the coffee table. It was quite empty, apart from some coffee stained tissues and some nut shells. Marco looked around and spotted another dustbin right next to the sofa. A peek into it made him stop. “Olivier?”

 

His voice must have betrayed his thoughts as Olivier hurried to his side in a second. “What’s the matter Marco?” Marco pointed wordlessly to the dustbin.

 

Olivier almost laughed. “Oh dear me. Miss Costa and her companion must be quite adventurous. Sex in the living room!” He fished out a tweezer to pick up the used condom. “Tsk, tsk, she was also a lucky girl. Her male companion is very well endowed.”

 

Marco felt discouraged. “It can’t be him then. I mean who’s going to be thick enough to kill a girl and then leave the evidence of their relationship lying there in broad daylight.” 

 

Olivier shrugged. “I wouldn’t rule him out though. Sometimes people surprise you. But I agree, it’s quite unlikely. But still, this would help us find out more about Miss Costa’s mysterious lover. Maybe someone isn’t happy with the relation between Mr PHD and Miss Costa and that could be the motive.”

 

Marco did a double take. “Come again?”

 

“You know, PHD, Pretty Huge Dic…”

 

“Okay Olivier. I know what you mean now. Thanks a bunch.” Marco said sarcastically. “Back to the case. I think they must have slept on the sofa, or do you think they were that creative that they used the floor?”

 

Olivier approached the enormous sofa and looked at it closely. Marco walked next to him and held out a flashlight for him. They found some strands of hair on the soft but judging by the length, they probably belonged to Gabriela Costa. Marco put them into the evidence bag nonetheless. Then, as he removed the cushions, “Aha!” said Olivier triumphantly and went to pick up the blackberry hidden behind the cushion. “We had already found an iPhone in her bedroom. And now we have this!” He pressed the start button and the screen lit up. It was of course locked but 3 missed calls, 4 unread messages and 1 voicemail were listed on the screen.

 

Marco felt excitement building inside him. “It must belong to him or, wait, it could very likely be hers! I mean if it was his, he must know he’d lost it somewhere. It can’t be that hard to figure out where he lost it can it? So he must have tried to come back here to find it and noticed something was wrong with her. But if it was hers, it means that she has an extra mobile phone that she used often. She was just a university student so she couldn’t have a work mobile. Do you think...?”

 

“That this is the mobile she used to communicate with him?” Olivier finished the sentence for him. “Yeah that’s my guess too. I think our Gabriela had been a naughty girl who was having an affair with a married man. That’s why he never stayed the night and that’s why she had this mobile just for him. He must be someone of some importance and wealth. Otherwise he couldn’t afford the expensive wine and food. And he would pick a blackberry over an iPhone for her. He didn’t want their communication to be discovered or intercepted.”

 

Bolstered by this new discovery, Marco and Olivier searched the rest of the living room with even more enthusiasm. But nothing of significance turned up and they concluded their search 30 minutes later.

 

When Marcel saw them stepped out of the flat, his expression was ecstatic. Marco felt bad but needs must. “Sorry Marcel, but Olivier and I have to talk to the neighbours and we can’t do it with our arms laden with evidence bags. So we left them inside the flat. Could you stay here for another hour or two until we come back to get them?” 

 

Marcel pouted but nodded reluctantly. Marco gave him a grateful smile before turning to Olivier. “Have you talked to anyone other than Ms Semaan this afternoon?”

 

“Well, the only one I could find this afternoon was an old lady in her 80s. She’s pretty deaf and I almost shouted myself hoarse talking to her. It was a waste of time anyway. She never leaves her room and knows none of her neighbours. Everyone else was off at work. Ms Semaan did tell me that the girl down the hall seemed to be the closer to Miss Costa than any of the other neighbours, probably because she’s from Barcelona and thus speaks Spanish. Her name is Carlota Fàbregas and she moved here from Barcelona for work a couple years ago. I think she’s going to be our best bet.”

 

Marco figured it would be more helpful to talk to a girl who had had some meaningful interaction with Gabriela rather than an old deaf lady. He followed Olivier as they walked down the hall. Olivier stopped at a flat and started knocking on the door.   

 

The girl who answered the door was a young girl in her early 20s. She definitely looked very Spanish. The look she gave Olivier could only be described as distrustful. Marco silently applauded her for not falling for Olivier’s charm. After looking at Olivier with distaste, she turned to Marco and asked, “What can I do for you, officer?”

 

Marco looked sideways at Olivier, who seemed amused rather than annoyed by Carlota’s reaction, and said, “Good evening Miss. Are you Carlota Fàbregas?”

 

Carlota nodded so Marco continued. “We would like to ask you a few questions about Miss Costa. You have undoubtedly heard about the tragedy.”

 

Carlota looked sad and sighed deeply. “Yes. I was totally baffled to find the tapes around Gabriela’s flat when I got back this afternoon. I talked to the officer outside the flat and he told me that Gabriela was found dead in her bedroom, probably from drug overdose. Codswallop!” she said indignantly. “Gabriela was the last one in the world to give in to drugs.”

 

Marco exchanged a significant look with Olivier before asking, “So you don’t think Miss Costa was addicted to drugs?”

 

Carlota snorted. “If you’ve ever met her, you’d know what I’m talking about. She’s the sweetest girl you’ll ever meet, very compassionate, very traditional, and extremely shy. She wanted to be a doctor after she graduated and she told me that she wanted to work in Africa to help the people over there. She was also a morning person. I had bumped into her multiple times in the morning on the weekends, and she was all dressed up and ready to leave. So she wasn’t into parties and anything of the kind at all. I don’t know why bad things always happen to the nicest person in the world!” There were tears in her eyes and Marco wanted very much to comfort her.

 

Olivier opened his mouth and said solemnly, his flirtatious expression completely gone. “We’re very sorry about the tragedy and for your loss. It was so unfortunate that a young bright girl like Miss Costa had to leave this world in this way. We cannot revive her. But we hope we can find out why she died. We all owe her that much.”

 

Carlota’s face softened and she said quietly, “Thank you. I’m sure Gabriela would be very grateful for all the efforts you’ve put to find justice for her.”

 

Marco remained silent for a minute to giver Carlota time to collect herself before asking, “Do you remember the last time you saw her?” 

 

“I remember seeing her yesterday when she came back home from class. It was around 3:30 in the afternoon. I got home early from work. We actually chatted for a while. She said that she was busy working on a paper for her summer class. You know, she was take classes in the summer for extra credit. We parted at around 4 pm and I never saw her since.”

 

“Did you try to find her after that? Were you surprised that you didn’t see her afterwards?” Marco probed a little deeper. Carlota shook her head.

 

“We were not close enough that we’d meet up for coffee every day. Besides, Gabriela was extremely private and it was common not to see her for several days. She said that she was busy working on that paper so it was totally possible that she would stay in her flat for days before she came out. She was a very hard-working and dedicated student.”

 

“Have you ever seen Miss Costa in the company of other people? Is she seeing anyone?” Olivier asked.

 

Carlota screwed up her face in concentration. “Let me think. Gabriela was usually by herself. But…” She was lost in thought as she tried to remember the details. “But I think I’ve seen a man coming out of her flat several times, always late at night. And, if I remember correctly, I’ve seen her in the company of a young man once or twice.”

 

“Did you see them clearly? Could you describe them in more details?”

 

“Well, the man that came out of her flat is definitely older. Middle-aged I would guess. I never saw his face because he always wore something that would cover his face. I think he’s around 6 feet tall. I did see the young man’s face. He looks Latin America so maybe he’s her friend or family from Brazil. He’s about her age, very thin and not very tall, 5’8 or 5’9.  He looked rather ill though and Gabriela seemed concerned about his health.” 

 

Olivier was taking notes of what Carlota had just said and Marco asked Carlota for more details. “For the older man, did you say that you saw him coming out of Gabriela’s flat late at night?”

 

Carlota nodded, “I once saw him at around 11:30 pm and once past midnight.”

 

“Do you remember what he was wearing?”

 

Carlota gave Marco a peculiar look. “What do you mean what he was wearing?”

 

Olivier joined in the conversation. “What Marco meant was whether he was wearing something expensive. Does he look like someone who’s rich and successful?”

 

Understanding dawned on Carlota’s face. “You know what? I think he was. I mean I didn’t get time to see exactly what brand of clothes he was wearing. But they all looked perfectly tailored and well-made. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he turned out to be someone of great importance.”

 

Marco and Olivier exchanged another look and Carlota blurted out, “You think he killed her? Blimey!”

 

Marco said hastily, “We don’t know anything for sure now. We have to analyse all the evidence and research all the possible scenarios before we can even attempt to come up with a hypothesis.”

 

Carlota nodded. “Of course. But could you please let me know if you do find out the cause of her death? I just want to know and...” Her voice broke and she had tears in her eyes again.

 

“Of course we will.” Olivier said softly. “And I promise that we will do everything we could to find justice for her.”

 

Carlota smiled at him with watery eyes and they left her to talk to the other neighbours. None of them seemed to know Gabriela well enough to give them any useful information. Nor had any of them seen Gabriela after 4 pm the day before. After another hour of questioning, Marco and Olivier gave up and went back to Gabriela’s flat to retrieve the evidence. They also released Marcel, who was more than happy to see them and left at top speed. After they got into the car, Olivier commented matter-of-factly, “This trip is well worth it. Now let’s see what our boys at the lab have found. I do hope İlkay hasn’t traumatised Mesut too much!”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm doing Olivier justice here. He's not a complete flirt and idiot as he appears to be. And if his analysis on criminal profiling sounds a bit off, it actually has a reason (other than my total inability to think and write of course :)
> 
> I debated for a while if I should make Miss Gabriela Costa a real person but decided against it in the end. As you can see, she was involved with a married man (who is a real person) in the story and I just feel it may not be so appropriate to suggest such relationship between two real persons. You're welcome to guess who her lover is. The young man that Carlota saw is also a real person.
> 
> I'm also including two girls from the Fàbregas family :)
> 
> Also congratulations to İlkay's contract extension! I hope that means he will stay with us for the coming season!


	8. Case 1 - Autopsy & Forensics 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Marco and Olivier returned with more evidence, the team discussed their findings from autopsy and forensic analysis. As they continued working through the night, Erik made the critical discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is very heavy on autopsy and forensic analysis. I'm writing with the assumption that all the characters are familiar with those techniques since they're detectives and forensic officers. I've done quite a bit of research on the subject and had to endure some rather ghastly photos lol. All the information I've included here is more or less accurate and I will include some of my research results and links in the End Notes.

“We’re back!” Marco cried as he walked into the office at 9:30 pm, Olivier trailing closely behind him. They were greeted with dead silence as no one was in the main office. “Anybody home?” Marco asked again and was greeted by a crashing sound inside one of the laboratories. 

 

“Oh God! It’s Mesut and İlkay’s lab.” Olivier dumped all the evidence on a nearby desk and rushed into the laboratory.

 

The crashing sound seemed to work as an alarm and Marco saw people emerging from different rooms, all looking disheveled to different degrees.

 

Erik was massaging his neck while Shinji was rubbing his eyes. Joe looked slightly cross-eyed, probably from staring at a laptop for too long. David seemed to be the most collected out of the group so Marco addressed him. “We brought back more evidence, including a condom with some dried semen in it and a blackberry that probably belonged to Miss Costa. We also talked to a girl who was pretty close to Miss Costa and she gave us some interesting information. I think we should get together and discuss what we’ve discovered so far. That will also give you lot a break. Where is Kehli by the way?”

 

David nodded. “Good idea. We’ve made some progress too so now is a good time to go over everything we have so far. Kehli went to get supper and more coffee. I thought he was joking earlier but apparently not. İlkay and Shinji did drink up all the coffee we have. Let’s check on İlkay and Mesut before Kehli gets back. I think I heard something from their laboratory.”

 

Inside İlkay and Mesut’s laboratory, they found İlkay cursing loudly on the floor while Mesut and Olivier were trying to help him get up. Without a word, Shinji hurried to İlkay’s side and together they pulled İlkay up. “What happened?” asked Erik curiously.

 

“İlkay fell asleep on his chair and the sound startled him so he fell onto the floor,” answered Mesut almost matter-of-factly.

 

İlkay gave Mesut a dark look. “You should have woken me up! I can’t believe you let me fall asleep for 30 minutes!” He massaged his wrist and hissed slightly when he touched a bruise on his arm. Shinji fetched some ice and started apply them on İlkay. Marco used this opportunity to tell İlkay, Mesut and Olivier their plan and they all agreed to take a break.

 

After they stepped out of the laboratory that smelled heavily of formaldehyde, they were greeted with a table of deliciously smelling food and Kehli who was busy making coffee. Everyone groaned with happiness and Kehli smiled at them. “You’ve been working hard for more than 5 hours. It’s time to feed you before you collapse. Marco, Olivier, please take those evidence into the laboratory. They don’t add too much to the dinner table. Everyone else, please sit down and tuck in. I’ve got coffee made but they are off limits to İlkay and Shinji. Yes,” he raised his voice at İlkay. “you too are going straight home after supper. What you desperately need now is a good night sleep!” Kehli’s voice was stern so İlkay and Shinji gave up reluctantly, even though İlkay looked mutinous.

 

The first 10 minutes of supper was completely silent. Everyone was wolfing down their food hungrily. Kehli was the one to break the silence. “Marco and Olivier, care to enlighten us with what you’ve found?”

 

So Marco and Olivier proceeded to tell the rest of the group everything they’d found out from their trip to Gabriela’s flat. There was a long silence after they had finished.

 

“This sounds fishy.” Joe finally said.

 

“Definitely dodgy,” agreed İlkay. “This doesn’t sound like a natural death to me at all.”

 

Kehli turned his attention to İlkay and Mesut. “What do you say about time and cause of death from your observation and the autopsy?”

 

“We can’t use lividity to determine the time of death nor whether the body had been moved because the body was discovered well past the six-hour or even past the twelve-hour mark. So that’s out. Using Rigor Mortis to determine her time of death, we can see that her body is still completely stiff so she can’t be dead for more than 30 hours. Her body temperature was also at room temperature. All of these, combined with the degree of decay of her body, the temperature of her bedroom, I would estimate her time of death to be between 16 to 24 hours before I finished my initial assessment of her body at the crime scene.” added İlkay. 

 

“That’s a pretty wide window,” muttered Kehli and İlkay fired up at once. “You try working on a corpse that had been decomposing for that period of time in a hot room! We’re lucky that we can be fairly certain of her primary cause of death!”

 

“Just saying just saying.” Kehli put his hands up in surrender and Shinji brought the conversation back on track.

 

“We found her body at around noon today. The initial examination took about an hour so the time frame was between 1 pm to 9 pm last night. Olivier said that the witness, whatever her name is, said that she saw Miss Costa at 4 pm yesterday. So we now have a 5-hour window to work on.” He looked at İlkay, “Is it really impossible to narrow it down?”

 

İlkay sighed, “From the observation and preliminary autopsy results, no. But armed with the information we have now, we can take a closer look. We’ll analyse the contents of her stomach and see if that will tell us anything. It will have to wait until tomorrow though.” He threw a nasty look at Kehli, who was so familiar with it that he ignored it with total ease. “Brilliant. Mesut can take a closer look at that tonight. So what about cause of death?”

 

“The primary cause of death is heart failure, although we detected signs of respiratory failure and renal failure too. None of those two are severe enough to cause immediate death though,” answered Mesut promptly. “We’ve checked all her organs and the brain. There was no evidence of injury from brute force.” 

 

“Hmm, what can we tell from the state of her flat?” mused Kehli. “Have you found any evidence of forced entry or struggle?”

 

Olivier shook his head. “We found nothing of the sort. There was no sign of forced entry at the door. The windows are properly closed. So either she was by herself, or she knew whoever was with her at the time.”

 

“Was the door locked?” asked David.

 

“It was locked using the push button. So technically, it could be locked by whoever was in her flat after Gabriela was killed,” answered Olivier. “We didn’t find any sign of struggling in her flat either. All the rooms are fairly clean and organised.”

 

Kehli thought for a moment. “So either there was no violent murder in her room or the murderer was a professional cleaner as well. Okay, Erik and Shinji, what have you got from your analysis?”

 

“I ran some quick tests on her blood and it tested positive for cocaine. GC-MS on her blood sample showed high cocaine concentration. If she had never taken any drug before, which I suspect was the case, it was enough to kill her even though she had no pre-existing conditions. I’ve started ELISA for her hair but I have to wait for the overnight coating first so we won’t get any results until tomorrow. If I find any positive results against any well-known drugs, I’ll have to do GC/MS on her hair, which will take at least a day, depending on the number of samples we need to run,” said Erik professionally. “The good thing is, her hair is pretty long, around 18 inches. Assuming a normal hair growth rate of half an inch per month, we’re looking at results that can date back to 36 months ago.”

 

“As for the fingerprints profiling,” said Shinji, “most of the fingerprints in the bedroom and study that I’ve analysed belong to Miss Costa. I did find fingerprints of another person that was seen in various places but I haven’t found out who they belong to. I’m checking it against the INTERPOL database but I doubt we’ll find anything. I mean the fingerprints of that person were everywhere. So it’s more likely that this person is someone who either lives with Miss Costa or is very close to her. I just don’t see a murderer daft enough to leave his or her fingerprints in so many different places.”

 

“Have you found fingerprints that belong to anyone other than those two?” asked Marco.

 

“Not yet. But again, I haven’t finished analysing all of them. And you brought back fingerprints from the other rooms so we may find something.” Shinji said, looking rather tired.

 

“We’ve made some progress.” Joe piped up and everyone turned to look at him hopefully. “I managed to break the password of her laptop and mobile and we’re going through the contents. Her laptop contains nothing unusual, you know, school work, music, a couple movies that may or may not be downloaded legally, pictures with family, and her visa documents. I’ve passed those on to David.”

 

“And I did some research on Miss Costa,” said David. “She was 23 years old and just finished her third year in university. She had spent a semester here as an exchange student before officially transferring a year ago. She immigrated to Spain from Brazil when she was 12 years old with her family, who opened a Brazilian restaurant in Barcelona. According to my research, the restaurants are pretty popular so the family shouldn’t be in any kind of financial trouble. She had always been a good student and graduated with top grade from her high school. Her parents divorced when she was 15 years old and her mother soon remarried and relocated to Dortmund. She divorced her second husband 4 years later though and hasn’t remarried, at least not according to any official record. I suppose that’s one of the reasons why Miss Costa chose to come here. I haven’t got time to find out more about her family yet but I don’t think it’s the high priority at this moment.”  

 

“I also looked into her social network. She used to have a facebook account but she closed it about a year ago. I have to do some digging to see if I can find more information on her closed account,” continued Joe. “Her mobile wasn’t too interesting either. I sent her contacts, both phone and email, to David. From the first glimpse, it seems like ordinary contacts. Family, friends, professors. Now I need to run some data recovery program on her laptop and phone to restore the deleted files.”

 

David nodded. “I looked at her contacts and didn’t find anyone out of the ordinary. I ran some basic background check on them and none of them has a criminal record. I’m going through her browser history and her texts now to see if anything stands out. But I’m really hoping that this second mobile has something more interesting.”

 

Kehli smiled at them. “You lads are amazing! What you’ve done are truly exceptional work and I’m really glad we have David, Joe, Mesut and Olivier on the team. Now,” his voice turned serious again, “we need to first determine if this is a murder case. Before that is established, nothing can justify the effort and resource we put into this case. So Mesut, I’m afraid you have to take a closer look at the autopsy.”

 

“But Kehli!” İlkay almost whined.

 

“No İlkay!” Kehli said firmly, “You and Shinji will go home and get a good night sleep tonight. You’ve already fallen asleep in the laboratory so you’ll be pretty useless for the rest of the night whether you like it or not. So just stuff it and go home!” When İlkay threw him murderous looks, Kehli simply said, “Shinji, make sure he goes to bed within an hour. I don’t care how you do it. Just make it happen! And I want to see both of you in the office tomorrow morning at 8 o’clock, fresh and sharp. Understood?”

 

Shinji nodded as he grabbed İlkay by the arm and dragged him away.

 

Kehli sighed, “I have no idea how Shinji put up with him. Anyway, David and Joe, you can decide if you want to stay here and work or not.”

 

“We’ll stay here until we take a look at the second mobile,” said Joe quickly and David nodded next to him.

 

“Good. Make sure you go home before 2 am though. I want to see both of you here at 8 o’clock sharp tomorrow morning as well. Erik, if you can go through the new evidence Marco brought back, that would be great. Olivier, you should go home and get a good night rest. You have a lot of people to talk to tomorrow. I also want you to find out more about the restaurants of those takeout boxes. See if they remember if Miss Costa or anyone else had placed the order.”

 

“I’ll stay here with Mesut for a while, to keep him company.” Olivier flashed his signature smile. “But I promise I’ll leave before midnight.”

 

Kehli sighed, giving up on Olivier. “Fine, whatever. Marco, you can help Erik with his analysis. But I want you to leave before midnight too. Don’t think I didn’t notice your face this morning.” With that, he left them to their own devices.

 

Mesut got up from his seat and said, “I better get back to work then. Oli,” he looked at Olivier, who answered him happily, “Coming my love,” and they excused themselves to the laboratory.

 

Marco looked at the other three and said, “So I talked to Olivier on my way to Gabriela’s flat. He didn’t think we’re looking at the right person.” He proceeded to recount their entire conversation to David, Joe, and Erik. After he had finished, Joe looked happy, Erik impressed, while David was lost in thought. 

 

“What’s the matter David? You still don’t believe it?” Marco asked.

 

“Well, it’s not that. I mean Olivier’s analysis makes sense,” said David slowly. After pondering the matter for a couple more minutes, he finally said, “I think that’s the best we can do and we’ll just close this case. Unless any new evidence comes up, we shouldn’t worry about it.”

 

Joe beamed at David. “I agree.” He turned to Erik and Marco, “Silvita worry too much sometimes. I always tell him that. He will never stop doubting things unless you can present him with a bullet-proof explanation.”

 

“No, I don’t,” said David hotly. “And stop calling me Silvita!” 

 

Joe laughed. “Come on. Let’s get back to work. I do want to go home before midnight.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When they were inside the laboratory, Erik’s expression changed almost immediately. He looked both confident and authoritative and had no problem issuing orders. “Marco, are you good with fingerprints analysis?” 

 

“I’m not bad. It’s kind of a prerequisite for working in CID. I’ve done a lot of them, mostly because Marcel was my partner.” This was perfectly true. Marco doubt if they could find any other detectives better at forensics than he was. Well, apart from İlkay, who did it for certain sick personal interests. 

 

“Excellent!” Erik looked relieved. “Could you go through those fingerprints? You can find Shinji’s results there. I need to go through some of these tissue samples Mesut sent me. I also need to finish analysing the crack tube, her clothes, the semen sample in the condom, etc.”

 

They both started to work in silence. Marco was going through fingerprint after fingerprint, while Erik was extracting samples from the evidence for DNA profiling. After a couple hours, Marco had gone through half the fingerprints Shinji left off from the bedroom and study and found nothing new. He checked his phone and found five new texts.

 

The first one was from Mats. “Have you survived Mario Balotelli? I want to know your thoughts on the case. I’m not available tomorrow but the day after tomorrow should work. Let me know if that’s a good time for you.”

 

Marco rolled his eyes. Who in his right mind texts like this? Only Mats would text like he was writing an email to a client. He quickly typed his reply, “Still alive. Have sth to tell u. Day after tmr is prolly out, sry. Fri nite or wkd works. Will txt u to upd8 on fri.”

 

The next four were all from Neven. 

 

“Dude, are u guys working on a case?” 

“Cause I txted Erik a couple times & he didn’t reply.”

“Is he shy or just busy?”

“Marco just ask him to txt me back K? thx.”

 

Marco wanted to drown himself in the unknown chemical solution sitting in front of him. Why did he have to be the messenger between Neven and Erik? Of all the people in the world, why did Neven have to date his coworker in the first place? He sighed heavily and shouted at Erik. “Erik could you do me a favour and text Neven back? He was asking me why you weren’t responding to his messages and it’s kind of driving me nuts.”

 

Erik almost jumped at Marco’s words and blushed when he looked down at the screen of his mobile. He mumbled something unintelligibly and stepped outside, undoubtedly to call Neven. Marco used that time to mope around in the laboratory, lamenting his lack of a personal life. 

 

When Erik returned, looking flushed but happy, he asked Marco in the most professional way he could manage, “Have you found anything interesting?”

 

Marco rolled his eyes. “Relax Erik. I’m not going to ask you details about your sex life with Neven. That might traumatise me for life.” He ignored Erik’s spluttering and continued, “I’m half way through all the fingerprints from the bedroom and study and found nothing else. So I’m ready to bet that no one else left their fingerprints there. It doesn’t mean anything though. An experienced criminal won’t leave anything as obvious as fingerprints behind. What about you?”

 

“Well, I’ve managed to extract DNA from the semen sample and have prepared the tissue samples for analysis. I’m about to look at the crack tube and her clothes. I’m not sure…” His words were interrupted by Joe, who just banged the door open. 

 

“This is her second phone! I cracked the code and can you believe it? All the messages and calls are from the same number! Listen to this!” Joe thrusted the phone at them, after David had come into the room as well, slightly out of breath.

 

Marco clicked on the most recent voicemail and put it on speaker. It was from a man.

 

“Gabi dear, I’ve just arrived at Rio. Why didn’t you pick up my call? Look I’m sorry I dropped the bomb on you right before I left. It must have been a big shock to you. But like I told you, Beatrix didn’t care. She’s known it for a while, almost since the beginning. We have made an arrangement ever since she found out and there is nothing to worry about. You should meet her. She said that she would love to meet you. Please give me a call or text after you hear this. I’m really worried. I love you.”

 

Erik was the one to break the silence. “Am I imagining things? Or does his voice sound somewhat familiar?”

 

While Joe and David looked puzzled, Marco had to agree with Erik. “I think I’ve heard his voice somewhere too. He’s probably a public figure. And his wife’s name is Beatrix. Too bad he didn’t say his name when he first left the message. Some people do that. But we’ve got his phone number so we will be able to figure out his identity won’t we?”

 

“Possibly, yeah,” said David slowly. “It will take some time though.” 

 

“Can’t we find out who he is using his number or track his mobile or something?” Erik asked.

 

“It’s harder with a blackberry, assuming that he uses a blackberry,” Joe offered his professional opinion. “Blackberry has better encryption against tracking and hacking than iPhone, which is why they are preferred by companies in areas that require higher security like finance, healthcare, and law. It is possible of course. I mean pretty much anything is possible nowadays as long as you have the resource and permission. But unfortunately we’re not NSA. Nor can we do something like that without a warrant even if we can do it technically.”

 

“We will try to find out who bought the phone. If someone else bought the phone, it would make things harder. My biggest worry is that Miss Costa was the one who bought both phones, even though the money may come from this man. But we’ll worry about it when we found out.” David sighed, “I wish I had heard his voice before. I would have remembered it. Can you think of when or under what circumstance that you’ve heard the voice?”

 

Both Erik and Marco racked their brain hard, trying to remember when and where they had heard the voice. Erik gave up after 5 minutes, saying that it was giving him headaches and returned to his bench. Marco continued on for another 10 minutes but had to concede defeat then.

 

“For the life of me I can’t think of when and where! I don’t think it’s a voice I hear often though. So it definitely has nothing to do with football.” Joe laughed but Marco ignored him. “It’s not one of those news presenters either. But other than that, I really have no clue.”

 

David nodded thoughtfully. Before he could say another word though, they heard a yelp from the laboratory next door. Everyone except Erik, who was so engrossed in his analysis that he was apparently oblivious to the outside world, jumped at the noise.

 

“It must be Mesut.” exclaimed Joe excitedly. Without further ado, they hurried into Mesut’s laboratory.

 

The look on Mesut’s face could only be described as ecstatic. “I’ve got it. The death time. I believe it occurred between 8 pm to 9 pm.”

 

“How did you find out?” asked Marco in amazement. He immediately regretted his question though, as Mesut pointed to a pile of liquidy mess inside Miss Costa’s open stomach.

 

“Oh my god! I really don’t want to know.” Marco groaned and hastily turned his eyes away. David chuckled next to him and Marco glared at him. Joe, on the other hand, looked rather green and Marco was quite glad that he was not the only normal human being in the room.

 

“This is great news Mesut!” David said enthusiastically and Mesut beamed with pride. “Have you found anything else in her stomach?”

 

“No, not really. I’m going to run some tests on the contents of her stomach to see if I can find any toxin. Depending on when she died, toxins might have been metabolised by then but we need to check anyway. Has Erik started on the tissue samples yet?”

 

“I think so.” replied Marco, “he’s no where near finished though. But I believe he has prepared the samples. I can go and check on him to see if he needed any help.”

 

Olivier interrupted him. “You’ve heard what Kehli said, we need to go home now. It’s 1 in the morning and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

 

“But Oli,” Mesut opened his mouth.

 

“No Mes, I’m perfectly serious. We need to go home, now! The goo in Miss Costa’s stomach can wait until tomorrow morning.” Olivier said firmly, looking unusually stern. 

 

Mesut gave in, “Fine.” He turned to David, Joe, and Marco. “I’m just going to stay another 10 min to preserve the contents of her stomach for tomorrow’s analysis. You should go home too.”

 

They all nodded and left the laboratory. When Marco entered their room, he found that Erik was still immersed in his analysis. 

 

“Come on, Erik. It’s 1 in the morning and we should go home. If we show up late tomorrow, Kehli and Roman will do us nuts.”

 

Erik waved a gloved hand in Marco’s general direction without looking at him. “You go on. I’m in the middle of something. Can’t leave now. Will be done in a sec.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next morning, Marco managed to get to the office at 7:55 am. To his surprise, the whole CID was packed. Roman was screaming at someone on the phone in his office, his booming voice still audible from outside even with his office door closed. Olivier was making coffee while David and Joe were sitting in front of a desktop, scanning the screen quickly. İlkay was talking animately with Mesut and Shinji was listening closely. Assuming that the conversation was probably not suited for someone on an empty stomach, Marco turned to Kehli, who just walked out of his office. “Where is Erik?”

 

Kehli frowned. “I was wondering the same thing. I thought he’d…” But he was interrupted by Roman, who just slammed his phone down and stormed out of his office in a towering temper.

 

“Those bloody wankers! They are more concerned about their public image than justice! ‘Oh but Roman, you must know it will look bad on us if we have two murders within 3 months.’ I don’t give a damn if it makes them look like fucking idiots, which they are anyway! My job is to find out the truth! Speaking of which, turn on the telly will you Kehli? I want to see if this has been reported or not. And I swear to God they have no idea how things are done here. They have never done a day of real work in the lab nor the field but here they are! Asking me to give them proof that this is indeed a murder case. Otherwise, I quote, ‘just drop it and stop wasting money and resource on the case.’ One day I’d like to see how they’d react if one of their relatives has popped his clog. I bet they’d be all over the place, demanding us to make investigations straight away! How can Jürgen stand them?!”

 

“Roman!” Kehli said in a low warning voice and Roman finally finished his rant. Taking a deep breath, he said. “Look lads, I know it’s not fair to you and you’ve been working extremely hard. But we need to establish that this is a potential murder case. Otherwise we have to stop the investigation and all the work you’ve done will…”

 

Before Roman could finish, he was interrupted by Erik, who banged the door of the laboratory open and almost crashed out of it. “I’ve found it. It’s a murder! It’s a bloody murder!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used to be a chemistry major so I've actually done some of those tests. For those of you who're interested, below are some facts about drug test and autopsy.
> 
> How long does Cocaine stay in you: 
> 
> Hair: It takes 5-10 days from the time of drug use for hair to grow above the scalp. Average growth rate of human head hair is approximately ½ inch (1.3 cm) per month  
> Blood: Small part of a cocaine dose may be detected for 48 hours after use  
> Urine: Benzoylecgonine persists in urine at detectable concentrations from 2-4 days  
> Saliva: Up to 1 day (usually less than 6 hours though)  
> Sweat: Generally, the peak level of cocaine concentrations in sweat is at 4.5 to 24 hours.
> 
> Cocaine Analysis
> 
> Method:  
> Samples are first screened using Enzyme-Linked Immunosorbent Assay (ELISA) methodology  
> Any samples that test presumptively positive in the screening process are then subjected to gas chromatography/mass spectrometry (GC/MS)
> 
> ELISA Time: Coating overnight (at 4 °C) + ~ 4 hours analysis  
> GC/MS Time: 30 min per sample. Can have as many as 50 samples in auto-sampler to be run at the same time, which takes around 24 hours.
> 
>  
> 
> Autopsy:
> 
> Internal Examination: http://science.howstuffworks.com/autopsy5.htm
> 
> Rigor Mortis:  
> The stiffening of the body after death  
> Rigor normally appears within the body around two hours after the deceased has passed away  
> Rigor Mortis is a good means of indicating time of death as is normally visible within the first thirty-six to forty-eight hours after death; after which it leaves the body.
> 
>  
> 
> Lividity:  
> The process through which the body's blood supply will stop moving after the heart has stopped pumping it around the inside of the deceased  
> Lividity begins to work through the deceased within 30 minutes of their heart stopping and can last up to 12 hours. Only up to the first 6 hours of death can lividity be altered by moving the body.


	9. Case 1 - Details Determine Success or Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik had managed to establish the death of Miss Costa as a murder case from a detail that was almost overlooked. The identity of Miss Costa's lover was revealed, though quite unexpectedly. Olivier had proved himself useful again. And a new character would soon be introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I'm throwing in more technical terms in this chapter. The detailed information can be found at the End Notes. Hopefully they're not too technical and cause any problems to the story.

“Good gracias!” Kehli cried and rushed forward to catch Erik, who was deeply flushed on the cheeks and had a feverish look in his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’ve stayed here all night Erik!”

 

Erik ignored him completely. He was waving several pieces of paper clutched in his hands. “I’ve found the DNA and the blood. The cocaine sample contains blood and Miss Costa of the DNA matched that of the blood.”

 

Everyone was gaping at Erik. Marco blinked a couple times, wondering if Erik had finally lost his marbles after spending an entire night in the laboratory. David said tentatively, “Er, Erik, are you sure you’re quite all right? I mean, you’re not making a lot of sense at this moment.”

 

Erik looked puzzled and pondered David’s words for a moment. To everyone’s surprise, Erik then slammed the papers down on the desk. Before any of them could stop him, Erik had reached the sink, put his head directly under the fountain tap, opened faucet and drenched his head in cold water. Kehli’s eyes were big as plates and Roman’s eyebrows were raised so high that they were ready to disappear into his hair. When Erik had finished washing his head with icy cold water, Kehli opened his mouth again with real concern in his voice.

 

“Erik my boy, are you quite sure you don’t need to take a break? You seem…”

 

But he was interrupted again by Erik, who turned the water off and shook his head several times, splashing water everywhere. “I’m perfectly fine. Thank you very much Kehli. I was just a little over-excited.” He swallowed hard and continued, much calmer this time. “I believe I have found evidence that the death of Miss Costa was not an accident, but rather a murder.” He looked at everyone significantly and continued, “As I was going through the evidence, I found blood stain on the back of Miss Costa’s underpants.” 

 

“Her what?” Joe couldn’t help but blurt out his surprise.

 

“Her underpants, Joe. Her knickers,” Erik snapped at him impatiently. “I thought nothing of it at first. I mean the blood could come from anywhere. But when I looked at it closely, the shape of the blood stain was peculiar. I’m almost certain that it was wiped onto her underpants. Here, look at the pictures I took.” He shoved the pictures into Marco’s hands and everyone gathered around to take a look. 

 

Marco had to say that Erik had a point. The stain definitely looked like wipe pattern. Seeing how excited Erik was though, Marco felt that he needed to be devil’s advocate to calm Erik down. “But still, this doesn’t mean anything. The blood could be from anything. She might have cut her fingers that morning and wiped the blood on her underpants. It might not even be her blood.”

 

“Of course those were possible scenarios, before you run the analysis on the blood sample though.” Erik was smiling smugly now. “I removed that piece of cloth, removed any substance on it to prevent contamination of results, and dissolved the blood on the cloth to prepare for the blood sample. I then ran GC/MS on it to confirm that it contains cocaine. I also ran PCR on both this blood sample and the sample we took from Miss Costa. Luckily the blood stain was big enough for me to get a decent amount of sample for the PCR. Otherwise I have to amplify it a million times and we could still be waiting for the results now. The results just came out. The blood was indeed Miss Costa’s. We knew she was snorting cocaine, which could very likely result in nosebleed, especially if it was her first time doing it. By the way, someone needs to finish the ELISA on her hair. The overnight coating was done. But back to the blood. If her nose did bleed from snorting cocaine, she must have wiped it on her underpants.”

 

“But this doesn’t prove anything Erik,” said David patiently. “I agree the circumstances were suspicious. The fact that she wiped it on her underpants is highly curious. But we cannot prove that she was murdered by this.” He sighed, “I know where you’re going with this and if I’m honest, I think you’re right. She was probably forced to take cocaine by someone else, who might have a gun pointing at her head. Her nose most likely started bleeding after snorting the cocaine and she wiped the blood on the back of her underpants. She might have even done it to give us a clue. That could be why she chose to wipe it on the back rather than the front of her clothes so her attacker wouldn’t see it. But it’s all just our speculations. Unless you can prove that she…” David suddenly stopped and his expression turned from frustration to shock. “Oh my god! Have you also done the analysis on…”

 

“On her nose tissue sample? Yes!” yelled Erik triumphantly. “I did the analysis on her nose tissue samples and guess what I’ve found. In addition to small amount of cocaine, which is hardly surprising, I’ve also found ruptured blood vessels on many parts of her nasal mucosa! Her blood pressure was almost certainly high after cocaine was in her system so we’re looking at a large amount of blood loss. Yet apart from this smeared blood stain, we didn’t find anything else with her blood on it in her flat. Where did they go? Or shall I say, who took them?”

 

There was dead silence in the room, apart from the television in the background. Then both Roman and Kehli jumped into the air. Roman ran into his office and started dialling frantically. Kehli, on the other hand, was addressing them with great enthusiasm.

 

“Now that we have a murder case, I need all hands on deck. Pass all of your other cases to someone else. I don’t care who. David, Joe and Mesut, tell me what you had found out last night.” 

 

After David, Joe, and Mesut recounted their findings, Kehli clapped his hands together excitedly. “Excellent! I believe we have a real lead here. This man may not be the suspect, but he is an important source of information. Mesut and İlkay, keep working the autopsy. I want to have the final report asap. Erik, you go and take a kip in the lounge. You’ve been up all night. Shinji, run those ELISA on the hair samples. Olivier, go to the restaurants and see if they remember anything related to the takeouts. David, go check with Dortmund and Frankfurt airport. I want a list of male passengers on all the flights from Dortmund and Frankfurt that landed in Rio de Janeiro between 3 - 6 am local time. Joe, restore the deleted files on her laptop and phones. Marco, call the mobile phone providers and find out who bought the mobile. Everybody clear? Splendid. Let’s get cracking then. We will find out who this mysterious man is and then…”

 

He stopped dead. Everyone in the room fell silent too. The only sound in the room was coming from the television which was broadcasting the morning news, and it sounded awfully familiar.

 

“We’re flattered and honoured to receive such a warm welcome from our sister city, the beautiful Criciúma. Dortmund and Criciúma have shared a long history of cooperation and communication that have greatly benefited both cities. I have planned to participate in the mayoral election in Dortmund and I promise, if I’m elected, I will…”

 

The man in the television was a bald man in his mid 40s dressed in an expensive yet classy shirt. After he finished his speech in German, he switched to Spanish. Judging by the impressed look on David’s face, his Spanish was more than passable. After a considerable stretch of silence, Kehli finally broke it. “This is Pep Guardiola, the politician that is considered to be everyone’s favourite in the upcoming mayoral election. The only one, they say, who stands a chance of posing a real challenge to the current mayor José Mourinho.”

 

Comprehension dawned on David’s face. “I’ve heard of him before. He had spent several years in Barcelona and was quite popular there. He was involved in a lot of charity programmes. Are you sure he’s the one who called Miss Costa?”

 

“I’m afraid so, David.” Kehli said almost apologetically. “He’s in Brazil right now so he must be in Rio for the connection flight earlier when he left that voice message. His voice matches the voice in the voicemail and most importantly, his wife is called Beatrix. She’s from an ancient noble family and her father was the Minister for Foreign Affairs. They suspected that she must have used her family connection to help Pep Guardiola advance his career. But Pep’s popularity stems more from his personal charm and ability than her family’s influence.”

 

“Well, if he was the murderer, neither his charm nor his wife’s family could help him,” commented İlkay matter-of-factly.

 

“We don’t know anything for sure yet and we should not jump into conclusions,” Kehli said sternly. “What we know so far is just that Pep was romantically linked to Miss Costa. Nothing more. We have to… Olivier what’s the matter?”

 

Olivier’s focus was still entirely on the television, which was now showing Pep Guardiola talking kindly to some impoverished and malnourished children. He jerked his attention back when Kehli addressed him. “Oh, I was just thinking. Hang on a second, let me check something.”

 

They all watched Olivier as he rushed to a nearby desktop and opened a flight booking website. Realising what he was doing, Marco and David gathered around Olivier, looking at the website eagerly. 

 

“Look at this,” said Olivier enthusiastically, pointing at the computer screen, “The only flight to Rio de Janeiro at that time of the day is the direct flight from Frankfurt at 10:15 pm. It was scheduled to arrive at Rio de Janeiro at 5 am local time, which fits the time Pep called Miss Costa and left a message. The fastest way to get to Frankfurt airport is driving, which takes at least 2 hours. So Pep needed to leave Miss Costa’s place by 6:30 pm at the latest.”

 

David continued with Olivier’s analysis. “According to Mesut’s autopsy results, Miss Costa died between 8 to 9 pm. No offence Mesut but let’s just assume that the time estimate was off, just in case. Miss Costa was last seen at 4 pm. They most likely had dinner and wine together, and had sex on the couch. If Pep Guardiola was the killer, he also needed time to clean up the mess Miss Costa made, which takes time. Considering cocaine overdose doesn’t kill you right away, it was almost impossible for him to do all of the above within two and half hours.”

 

“So he can’t be the murderer then,” said Erik firmly.

 

“I find it highly unlikely,” agreed Olivier, “not just because of the time issue, but also because of his personality.” He paused for a moment, as if to organise his thoughts, and then continued. “The way the murderer chose to kill Miss Costa was significant. She was not shot, not hanged, not drowned, not smothered, not even poisoned. She was killed by cocaine overdose, which as we all painfully know, is not an easy way to die. Not for her, nor for the beholder.”

 

“Maybe he wanted her to be high when she died. That way she wouldn’t suffer,” asked Joe tentatively, though with little conviction in his voice. Olivier shook his head.

 

“There are less painful ways to die. As we know from the evidence, she suffered a major nosebleed after she was forced to snort cocaine. Moreover, she was conscious enough to know to leave a clue for us. In other words, she had been suffering for a while and was then forced to take even more cocaine into her system so she would die. It takes someone heartless enough to force a young girl to repeatedly take drug against her will so she could die from it. Pep Guardiola, though I know little about him, is not someone like that. If he were to kill the girl, he would have picked a much less painful way.”

 

“How can you tell he’s not a heartless bastard?” asked İlkay curiously, “Most of the politicians are.”

 

“Well, I can tell from his interaction with those kids. His facial expression and body languages give him away. Look at how his face changed when he saw them. It was almost as if he didn’t want to face them. Oh no, he’s not disgusted by them or anything like that,” Olivier added quickly at İlkay’s inquiring look. “Rather it was because it pained him to face someone else’s suffering. He didn’t have the heart to look at them.”

 

“So he’s someone who would be deeply affected by other’s suffering and the way that Miss Costa died would have been too much for him to handle,” Marco said slowly, still thinking about the theory.

 

“Precisely,” agreed Olivier, “I believe he’s very sensitive and empathetic, rather than cold and apathetic like most of the psychopaths. Will he sacrifice others in order to achieve his goals? Probably. Like İlkay said, he’s a politician after all. But it will be done after a lengthy mental debate and he will choose a least painful way for those who might suffer if he can help it.”

 

“I think you’ve got a good point Olivier,” said David, who had listened very intently to Olivier’s analysis. “Pep Guardiola fits your description perfectly and I can’t see him killing someone in such a painful way. Besides, he had left too many clues to link Miss Costa with him. The condom, the missed calls, the message, the dinner and wine glasses, they all point to him. Pep Guardiola is not a daft idiot and can’t be afford to be one if he wants to advance his career in politics. I do think the murderer is somehow linked to him though.”

 

“I agree. Brilliant analysis by the way Olivier,” said Kehli, smiling slightly. “So we’re looking at someone who is apathetic and calculated. This someone is also probably somehow linked to Pep Guardiola. Someone leaps to mind?”

 

They all looked at each other, and answered Kehli in unison, “Beatrix Guardiola.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Okay, first thing first,” said Kehli in an authoritative voice, “we need to finish our evidence analysis and confirm our theory. Mesut and İlkay, the final autopsy report is your main concern. Joe, I still need you to go through all the hidden and deleted files in her laptop and mobiles. We need to know if anyone else could give us more information. Erik, go to sleep! You can barely stand up now. Shinji, finish the hair sample analysis of Miss Costa’s hair and go through all the fingerprints if you have time. David, I want you to focus on DNA profiling. I refuse to believe that the murderer left nothing at the crime scene. Olivier, go talk to Miss Costa’s classmates, friends, whoever that knows her. David can give you her contact list. I want to know more about her relationship with Pep Guardiola. Marco, go to the restaurant and see if you can confirm that Pep Guardiola ordered the dinner takeout. Call Frankfurt airport. We need to confirm that Pep Guardiola arrived at the airport on time, boarded his flight, etc. I also want you to research Beatrix Guardiola. The more we know about her, the better.” He took a sip of his coffee after issuing the orders. “As for me, I have to deal with the press first. Then I’ll see if I can find out if she has bought those cocaine.”

 

They all went about their tasks. Marco’s first two tasks are fairly straightforward. He picked up the phone, hoping that the restaurant and the airport would keep record of what happened two days ago. To his great relief, both the airport and the restaurant gave him what he needed. The restaurant receptionist was able to find the order placed by Pep Guardiola at 3:30 pm. The record also showed that Pep paid for the order at 4:05 pm. The lady at the airport confirmed that Pep Guardiola checked in at the airport at 8:20 pm and boarded the flight at 10:15 pm two days ago. So Marco picked up the phone again, this time to call the railway company.

 

A couple hours later, Marco was interrupted by Erik, who just woke up and walked over to his desk, looking bleary-eyed. “Feeling better?” asked Marco, half smiling.

 

“Sort of,” mumbled Erik, as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Anyway, have you found anything?”

 

“Yes,” nodded Marco, “Pep Guardiola paid for food at 4:05 pm. The restaurant is about 10-minute drive from Miss Costa’s place so we can expect him to be there at around 4:20 pm. The airport confirmed Pep Guardiola’s arrival at 8:20 pm. Of course we can’t find out if he has parked the car in the airport until he comes back to pay for the parking. So I’ve contacted the railway company and they had no record of him purchasing a ticket, not that I expect him to take a train. I’ve also called the major taxi companies in Dortmund and got the same results. So he either drove to the airport on his own or someone else dropped him off at the airport. I’ve checked with the local Motor Vehicle Registration Office and was able to get the license plate numbers of all the cars registered under his and his wife’s name. I’ve forwarded the information to the airport parking registry so they can check if any of those cars have parked there. While I’m waiting to hear from them, I’m going through all the pictures I can find about him appearing at an event to see if I can find out whether he has a driver.”

 

“You want to know exactly when Pep was picked up, if he was picked up by the driver?” asked Erik, who picked up a large mug of coffee.

 

Before Marco could answer, the phone rang. Marco jumped to pick it up. “Marco Reus speaking. Yes, right. You’re sure? So the record is for the black Mercedes Benz? Could you fax the record to me? You’ve got the picture of the driver? Brilliant! Yes, yes, please. Thank you so much!”

 

Marco hung up the phone and turned to face Erik, “Pep Guardiola drove to the airport by himself and entered the parking lot at 8:05 pm. I guess there is no need to question the driver.”

 

“Brilliant. You can just focus on Beatrix then. I better go check on David and Shinji. See if they need any help.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Olivier returned at 5:30 in the afternoon, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. “Marco, Marco, Marco.” Olivier called out Marco’s name in a sing-song voice, “Where is everyone, especially my dearest Mesut? They should be here to wait for my glorious return.” 

 

Marco face-planted into the keyboard and his words came out muffled, “Olivier I’m not in the mood! I’ve been reading the life story of this intimidating woman for the whole day! If you have to flirt with someone, go find Roman!” 

 

Olivier laughed, “And risk single-handedly starting World War III? No, thank you very much. But seriously, where is Kehli? I have some important information to share.”

 

“He’s in his office I suppose,” said Marco shrugging, “I didn’t really pay attention to what he was up to. I’ve got work to do you know.” 

 

“Tsk, tsk,” said Olivier with maddening patience, “why so tetchy Marco?”

 

Before Marco could snap back at him, Mesut and İlkay came out of their laboratory. İlkay was excited while Mesut looked a little pale. “I need food before I have a fit in the lab,” declared İlkay very seriously, “Where IS everyone? Has any of you had lunch yet?”

 

“It’s half past 5 in the afternoon İlkay,” answered Marco rolling his eyes, “Everyone’s had lunch and it’s almost time for supper.” 

 

“Is it already?” asked İlkay, looking genuinely surprised. 

 

“Yes, it is.” Mesut said with as much patience as he could muster. “Anyway, Olivier just got back. Let’s get everyone out so we can have supper and talk about what we’ve found so far.”

 

“Excellent,” said İlkay excitedly, “I’m going to drag Shinji out of the lab.”

 

Seeing that Olivier was clearly absorbed in hushed conversation with a tired-looking Mesut, Marco figured that he wouldn’t be able to get Olivier’s attention for a while, if the concerned looks on Olivier’s face was anything to go by. Resigned to his fate, Marco rose up from his seat, stretched a bit, and went on to knock on Kehli’s office door.

 

It wasn’t Kehli however, who answered the door. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to make Erik the hero in this case because he might be young and a little inexperienced but still bright and brilliant, very much like the real life Erik. And I hope I'm doing Pep justice. I hate to make someone a complete villain because I always believe that every character has his/her own depth and is hardly one-dimensional. (Of course there are psychopaths who are born that way but more of that later :) The story between Pep and Gabriela Costa will unfold in the coming chapters and hopefully you'll understand why they made their choices.
> 
> And some technical information for those who're interested.
> 
> DNA Profiling
> 
> \- Extracting the DNA from skin/flesh/bone takes time (couple hours plus, probably overnight). Blood sample extraction is much quicker. Amplifying the DNA adds a couple hours.
> 
> \- RFLP (Restriction Fragment Length Polymorphisim)  
> Takes longer (up to weeks).  
> More accurate
> 
> \- PCR (Polymerase Chain Reaction)  
> Much quicker (2 - 3 hours)  
> Less accurate


	10. Case 1 - When Bad Things Happen to Good People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help had arrived in an unexpected form. Olivier had managed to wheedle information about Gabriela Costa's ex-boyfriend out of one of her friends. And the team was making progress on cracking the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm introducing more characters into the story. I hope I can keep track of who's who. I might have also got a bit carried away with the whole stem cell transplant thing because it's actually the area I'm working in lol. Hopefully it doesn't bore you too much. I'll also include a little bit more information on that in the End Note.

The young man standing in Kehli’s office was very tall, probably the same height as Harty. He had a young and jovial face and right now he was smirking, which might explain the exasperation on Kehli’s face. 

 

“Er, hello,” said Marco uncertainly. He’d never met the young man before who looked like he was right up Olivier and İlkay’s alley. “I’m Marco, Marco Reus.”

 

“Hello Marco,” said the young man as he eyed Marco up, “Wojciech Szczęsny, but everybody calls me Woj. I’m a reporter for...”

 

Before Woj could finish his introduction, the surprised voice of Olivier came from behind Marco. “Woj! What are you doing here? Mes,” Olivier looked back at Mesut, “look who’s here! It’s Woj!”

 

Right in front of the eyes of everyone, Olivier and Mesut rushed forward to hug Woj, who smiled warmly at them and hugged them back. This moment of happiness was interrupted by Kehli. “Anyone care to explain?”

 

“Oh Kehli, I forgot you were here,” said Woj briskly. “Well, I just bumped into some old friends here. I became friends with Mesut and Olivier when I was still in London working for the Times. Oh I’m still working for them,” he added quickly at the questioning look on Mesut’s face. “They’ve decided that they need someone stationed in Germany for the German section. Since they’re thinking of moving me to the international division, the more experience I get, the better. So here I am, writing for both the Times and Ruhr Nachrichten. I got here three months ago and jumped right into the news coverage of the case of Mr Abramovich. By the way your Chief Inspector, Mr Roman Weidenfeller, really is lovely. He must have won the most lovely personality in Germany award many times before.”

 

“Hang on,” said Erik, frowning as he was trying to remember something, “you were the one who reported on the case of Mr Abramovich for Ruhr Nachrichten? I remember those articles because they were textbook news reporting on criminal cases. But it was by someone named W.S. Schmidt. Oh...” 

 

Woj laughed, “A fake name is always useful when your job requires you to go undercover every once in a while. But yes, I am W.S. Schmidt. Anyway, it would be great to report another murder case. Lots of exciting things happening in Dortmund.”

 

“Depends on your definition of exciting of course. In any case, we’ve decided not to disclose that it’s a murder case at this point, as I have told you many times during our meeting today,” said Kehli through gritted teeth. “Apparently the message hasn’t sunk in. Besides, there’s nothing exciting about murders. They are terrifying to the citizens and a serious threat to the…”

 

“Relax Kehli,” said Woj smirking at Kehli, who prompted snapped, “It’s Officer Kehl to you!” Woj however, ignored Kehli’s comment conveniently and continued, “Loosen up a bit. You’re turning into Roman. Both murder cases are very intriguing. From a journalism perspective, they are very exciting!” 

 

Mesut interjected before Kehli could retort again, “Woj was actually a very useful asset when he was in London. He used to work with us on the cases you see, and he had always helped us because he had access to all sorts of information. This could become helpful for this case too.”

 

Everyone turned their eyes on Woj, who shrugged and smiled, “I’m a reporter remember? I need my sources and I’m much less of a threat to certain people than you lot. They talk to me and give me insider information so I can get my story. In return, I keep some of their secrets too. I do have a limit though,” he added hastily, “I will never hide important information from the police or try to obstruct you lot in solving a crime. In fact, I try to expose as many major crimes to the police as possible. That’s part of my job. But for some of the lesser ones, I keep my discretion sometimes in exchange for the information they gave me.”

 

“That’s exactly why we need you, Woj!” said Olivier excitedly. He turned to Kehli, “Can we enlist Woj’s help? It could be crucial to the case, especially since it’s a drug-related one.”

 

Kehli sighed, “Fine. If Woj can help us, I’m in no position to turn down such an offer. I will order some supper for you and let Roman know of this new development. In the meantime, why don’t you brief Woj on the details of the case? Hold on to the new discoveries made today though, I want to be present for that.”

 

So they went on to tell Woj the details up to the discovery of Pep’s identity. Woj listened intently and was taking notes the whole time. When he was done, he spoke slowly, “I have interviewed the Guardiolas several times. You know he was running for the mayor and his wife, Beatrix, arranged for the interview so they could increase his publicity. Most of the interviews were done in their house in town. But once I was invited to the country house owned by Beatrix’s father.”

 

Marco sat up a little straighter. “Hang on, this could be extremely important. Let’s wait for the others to be here.”

 

When everyone including Kehli had gathered around the table, Woj continued, “Even though Pep Guardiola is the candidate running for the mayor, it is clear that Beatrix is the mastermind of the election campaign. She’s a very haughty woman, beautiful, elegant and fiercely clever, but haughty. It doesn’t surprise me at all that Pep Guardiola needs to find comfort and emotional connection elsewhere because Beatrix Guardiola is anything but a loving wife. She knows how to play her cards though. Pep Guardiola is a kind, easygoing and lovable man, very different from the current José Mourinho. But people might doubt Pep’s ability to run a whole city and to navigate through all the politics that come with the mayor position. Beatrix presents herself as the solution to that problem. Her ruthlessness and cunning will help Pep Guardiola immensely if he is to become the mayor. She also comes from a noble family full of prominent politicians.”

 

“When you were in her father’s country house,” asked David, “what did you see? Are there many servants? Does she have access to a gun?”

 

“You’re asking the right questions,” smiled Woj. “Her father, Mr von Essen, has one butler and driver and a housekeeper. The butler is around 60 years old and has been with the family for a long time. He’s a very proper and honourable man who’s very dedicated to his duties. All his attention was on Mr von Essen during our stay there. The housekeeper, Mrs González, is a middle aged woman who is a mother hen type. Her cooking is simple phenomenal and she fusses over everyone in a kind loving way. I don’t think Beatrix has a high regard for her though. She considers Mrs González too talkative and her Latin American root, yes She’s from Chile, inferior. So neither are particularly close to Beatrix and I doubt that she would enlist their help in the matter. Beatrix has a housekeeper of her own, who is actually a cousin of Mrs González so you can probably guess Beatrix’s opinion of her. Other than those three, I haven’t seen anyone else in the household of either Beatrix or her father.”

 

“I believe we can cross those three off our priority interview list then,” concluded Kehli while making notes. “Do you know anything about Beatrix Guardiola’s social circle?”

 

It was Marco who answered. “I was doing research on Beatrix and found that she has several people that she has known for a while. All of them are from ancient families like herself and are prominent members of the society. Actually the majority of them live in Berlin or Munich. None of her acquaintances in Dortmund has known her for too long. I also came across an interview about Beatrix Guardiola. Guess who wrote it?”

 

Everyone turned their heads to Woj again.

 

“Well, I interviewed the friends of both Pep and Beatrix Guardiola,” said Woj. “While Pep Guardiola’s friends spoke warmly of him and told me many interesting anecdotes of him, Beatrix’s friends, or I should say acquaintances, gave me cold facts about her.”

 

“What doyou mean by cold facts?” probed David.

 

“I mean they spoke highly of her abilities and her achievements but they couldn’t tell me anything worth writing about her personality or even their personal interactions with her. Everything they said are just cold and objective. It was like a work evaluation. She clearly hasn’t formed close relationship with any of them. Then of course there was their campaign manager, Lena Gercke, who’s a very strong-willed woman much like Beatrix herself. It’s no wonder they’re always at loggerheads with each other. You can almost feel the tension between them. I still have the transcripts and even recordings of my conversations with all of them if you want to take look.” Marco nodded fervently and Woj smiled, “I’ll send those to you asap.”

 

“Well, our dear Beatrix is a loner and always goes solo,” smirked Olivier, “Some women nowadays find it sexy. Maybe she’s one of them.”

 

It seemed like Mesut was trying really hard not to roll his eyes at his boyfriend but failed miserably. “Anyway, I guess that means Beatrix most likely did everything by herself. So what about the access to the weapon?”

 

“Mr von Essen owns several shot guns for shooting and a couple pistols. They should all be legal, though it wouldn’t hurt to double check. He showed them to me when we went hunting that day. As far as I can tell, they are fairly accessible and Beatrix could certain get hold of them. They are used only for shooting exercise and hunting, which are becoming less appealing to Mr von Essen due to his age. So it wouldn’t surprise me at all if Beatrix managed to take a gun out for a couple days and return it before anyone notices that.”

 

Everyone fell silent and it was Joe who broke it. “What about motives? Does she have a strong motive other than jealousy? Do you think her father could have helped her?”

 

“Mr von Essen is an honourable man,” said Woj. “I’ve had the chance to interview him several times when he was still the Minister of Foreign Affairs. He was very humble and amiable. You can tell by the way he treated his butler and Mrs González. Both of them are like his family. From what I heard, Beatrix resembled her late mother more and Mr von Essen is really fond of Pep Guardiola, more than Beatrix actually. He’s using all his connections to help Pep, which is why he was on so many international trips to sister cities. Their campaign logan is to transform Dortmund from a local industrial city to an international cosmopolitan. It’s quite effective actually. A lot of people are buying into this and the support rate of Pep Guardiola currently stands at 55%. I don’t think Beatrix cares for Pep personally but she really wants him to win. Right now he’s in a good position but if she has discovered something that might jeopardise that, I don’t know how far she’d go to eliminate the threat.”

 

“Well,” said Kehli almost reluctantly, “I have to say you’re pretty useful Mr Szczęsny.”

 

“Woj,” insisted Woj with a snigger. “It’s much better for you to call me Woj than to butcher my last name.”

 

“Fine, Woj,” said Kehli pointedly. “Could you work with Marco on information on Beatrix and her friends? Oh Marco, don’t forget to check the whereabouts of her friends at the time of the murder. I want to make sure we’re not missing anything before we declare someone irrelevant. Speaking of time of the murder, any news on the autopsy Mesut and İlkay?”

 

“We’re done with the internal examination and I’ll send you the report in a sec. We’ve also started running pathology tests on the blood samples but haven’t got the final results yet. We were able to confirm our finding from our preliminary examination though,” said İlkay. “Unfortunately we couldn’t narrow down the time of the death any further so 8 to 9 pm is your best bet. Personally I’m leaning towards the later part of the hour.”

 

“We’ve also found residues of cocaine in her stomach and saliva sample,” continued Mesut. “The amount is very small but considering we hadn't find any other toxin in her stomach yet, it is safe to assume that she had also swallowed cocaine.”

 

“This makes sense!” exclaimed Erik. “If she was suffering from serious nosebleed, the murderer had to get the cocaine into her body using some other means. Swallowing is the easiest way.” 

 

“Exactly!” agreed İlkay. “Speaking of which, Shinji have you found anything in her hair analysis?”

 

“No. I’ve done ELISA on only a third of her hair samples so that was 6 inches from the root of her hair. I couldn’t find anything above the Confirm Cutoff value so she hasn’t taken any drug between 5 days to 6 months before her death. I’ll finish the rest 12 inches but I don’t expect to find anything. She’s not a regular drug user.”

 

“If that’s the case,” said David thoughtfully, “the main question we have to answer is, where did she gain access to the drug. Did the murder buy it or did Miss Costa own the drug herself for some strange reasons?”

 

“Woj,” said Mesut suddenly, “I know we’re not in London anymore but could you help us on that?”

 

Everyone turned to look at Woj. Erik raised his eyebrow while Kehli looked torn between his wish to follow the rules and his desire to solve the case. None of the London officers however, looked surprised. 

 

“Woj knows his way around,” smirked Olivier. “He’s probably made friends with a lot of interesting people already.”

 

“I will look into that,” Woj said calmly, ignoring the looks on everyone’s face. “You should know whether Beatrix or Miss Costa had bought the cocaine by tomorrow. In fact,” he added thoughtfully, “I will check with my contacts in cities where Beatrix’s close friends are at. You never know.”

 

This last part of Woj’s words seemed to help Kehli make up his mind. “Thank you so much Woj.” He extended out his hand for Woj to shake. “We’re grateful for your help. And welcome to the team.” 

 

“The DNA profiling hasn’t yielded any meaningful results so far,” said David before Kehli even got the chance to ask, “Erik and I have managed to extract the DNA of some of the larger samples. We’re running both PCR and RFLP on them since we have enough samples. The PCR results are ready. Most of the sample we ran check with the DNA of Miss Costa. We’ve stored the information of the semen DNA results from PCR but I would recommend we wait for RFLP results to confirm. PCR is quicker but more prone to errors.”

 

“RFLP results won’t be available for at least another week,” continued Erik, “I don’t think we can extract enough samples from the rest of the evidence for RFLP so we have to rely on PCR. So far we have only managed to build two DNA profiles. One for Miss Costa, one from the semen sample. None of which will be helpful I guess but we’re working on the rest of the evidence. At any rate, we need to collect DNA from suspect otherwise we have nothing to compare against.”

 

Kehli nodded, “I think we should ask Mr and Mrs Guardiola to come here for questioning. I know that he’s still in Brazil but we need to start questioning her as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the more time she has to hide evidence, assuming that she is the murderer of course. Too bad we don’t have enough evidence to generate a warrant. I say let’s schedule the interview tomorrow.”

 

“Good thinking. Can I be part of the interview?” volunteered Olivier. Next to him, David looked interested too.

 

“Of course. I’d ask you even if you don’t volunteer,” said Kehli. “I will phone her after this meeting to arrange the interview. Okay Joe, what have you got?”

 

“I’ve found something interesting in her laptop,” Joe piped up enthusiastically. “I think, Miss Costa had a boyfriend before!”

 

“I believe you thought right Harty. What a pleasant surprise,” interrupted Olivier with a snigger. Joe glared at him. “Sorry. But please, do go on.”

 

“I found that she had many pictures with this mysterious bloke. She deleted all of them but of course I managed to restore the files. The pictures span a time range of around 2 years and the latest one was from a year ago, which was around the same time she closed her Facebook account. I checked her contact list and he’s not on it, unless he’s done some plastic surgery that changed his look completely. Here, take a look at the pictures.” Joe started handing out some printouts of the pictures. “Miss Costa was very close to him and you can tell that they were not brothers and sisters. He has terrible taste in hair though. What kind of person in their right mind would make their hair look like that?”

 

“Mario Balotelli.” muttered Marco but nobody paid him any attention. He took a closer look at the pictures and something clicked in his mind. “Wait a moment. Could this be? Olivier, look at him. Not tall, 5’8 or 5’9, Latin American, early 20s, thin, ridiculous hair! Carlota Fàbregas!”

 

“What?” asked Joe, looking a tad confused. “This bloke is a girl called Carlota Fàbregas?”

 

David turned his face away so nobody could see the look on his face. Olivier on the other hand, snorted with laughter. “Use your brain for once Harty! Of course this bloke is not a girl. Marco was saying he fits the description of the young man that Carlota Fàbregas used to see in the company of Miss Costa.” He turned to Marco, “I think you might be right. This also fits the intel I got today.”

 

“Miss Costa’s friends know this chap?” asked Mesut in amazement.

 

“Well, know of to be exact. I managed to talk to one of her closest friends here, Isabel. She’s a lovely girl but anyway. She told me that Miss Costa had a boyfriend that she grew up with. They are of the same age and have known each other for ages. He was in Brazil before but moved to Barcelona for university three years ago. That was when they started going out officially. When Miss Costa came to Dortmund as an exchange student a year and a half ago, they were still together. At the end of the semester however, instead of going back to Barcelona, Miss Costa decided to stay in Dortmund and broke up with this bloke, Ney.”

 

“Why?” asked Erik. “And is that his name? Ney?”

 

Olivier shrugged, “I suppose it’s more like a nickname of some sort. You know those Brazilians have really confusing and long names. Anyway, Isabel has never actually met him and Miss Costa referred to him as Ney. As for why Miss Costa decided to stay in Dortmund, Isabel told me it was because of Miss Costa’s mother’s health. Her mother was diagnosed with leukaemia about a year ago and her situation was pretty serious. Since her mother had already divorced her second husband, she was here by herself and Miss Costa decided to stay here to take care of her.”

 

“Is it also because she was the matching donor?” asked İlkay suddenly. At everyone’s raised eyebrows, İlkay rolled his eyes and said, “Come on. It’s obvious, isn’t it? The best way to treat leukaemia is stem cell transplant, which requires a donor. Either her mother goes through autologous transplant or...” İlkay then went on to give a lecture on everything about stem cell transplant, which lasted a good 5 minutes. “... since she was the next of kin, Miss Costa was the best candidate apparently.”

 

David blinked a couple times. “You know İlkay that’s way too many medical terms in German for me to handle.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Marco muttered under his breath, “I have no idea what he was talking about either. It’s not a language thing. It’s a İlkay thing. Trust me, apparently has never been used in a sentence like this before.”

 

Before İlkay could snap at Marco, Shinji came to their rescue. “I believe we get the general idea if we disregard the medical details. Thank you for providing them though İlkay. It’s good to know more about stem cell transplant, which is what they call the future of medicine. Anyway, was Miss Costa the matching donor for her mother, Olivier?”

 

“You bet she was,” answered Olivier. “She donated her bone marrow to her mother and her mother underwent transplant about a year ago.”

 

“Sorry,” interrupted Mesut, “she chose bone marrow donation? Well, she was indeed a brave girl. The procedure was very painful and intrusive. You can imagine what it feels like if someone drills a hole in your spine and poke a needle into to take your bone marrow out. It was a brave and noble decision from her.”

“But unfortunately, her sacrifice didn’t work. Her mother died about two months ago. Here,” Olivier handed a piece of paper to Mesut and İlkay, “I got the official record and her autopsy report from the hospital. As you can see, she was treated in Sankt-Johannes, the best and most expensive hospital in Dortmund. Mind you, those transplant procedures aren’t exactly cheap. So the question becomes: how could they afford such an expensive procedure in such an expensive hospital when they were a housewife and a university student? I think we all know the answer.”

 

“Blimey!” said Erik in total surprise. “You think that’s why she broke up with her boyfriend Ney and started seeing Pep Guardiola? To save her mother? That’s, that’s…” Erik seemed to be struggling for words.

 

“That’s a very tragic end for a very nice girl, who deserved so much more,” Kehli finished Erik’s sentence sadly, the look on his face grave. He turned to Olivier, “Did her friend mention anything about drugs? Was Miss Costa depressed after her mother’s death? Is it possible that she was resorting to drugs to forget her mother’s passing?”

 

“I did ask her those questions,” answered Olivier, “and Isabel said that there was no way in hell that Gabriela Costa would resort to drugs. She was of course devastated by her mother’s passing but it didn’t come as a complete shock. Isabel said that Miss Costa dealt with her grief well. She said that Miss Costa was even more motivated to get her medical degree after the incident, which was why she was taking the summer classes. Miss Costa was also taking care of herself more than before. Isabel believed that Miss Costa had basically refrained from drinking after the death of her mother and started following a strict diet and adopted a healthy lifestyle. She also advised Isabel to follow her lead because, I quote, ‘it’s never too early to look after yourself. Your health is more important than anything else’. So I agree with Isabel on this. Why would a girl so keen on having a healthy life resort to drugs? It doesn’t make any sense.”

 

They had to agree with Olivier. This was looking more and more like a murder case now. “Have you finished what you were saying Joe?” asked Kehli.

 

“The pictures are all I’ve found from her laptop,” answered Joe. “I’ve passed the deleted documents to David but there aren’t many and none of them seem interesting. The laptop was bought a little over a year ago so I’m not surprised that she didn’t have a lot of stuff on it. I’m working on her iPhone now and I think I’m close. I’ll let you know when I’m done. I’ll also take a look at her Blackberry. See if I can restore the deleted contents. It might be tricky. Of course I still need to look at her email and Facebook accounts.” 

 

“Excellent, well done everyone!” said Kehli encouragingly. “We’ve made a lot of progress today and everyone should go home and get a good night sleep. Yes, I mean it.” He raised his voice slightly at the protesting look on everyone’s face. “We’ve still got a long way to go and I don’t want you all burned out within the first two days. Today’s only Wednesday and we’ve got two more days until the weekend so pace yourself. Finish what you have already started and then go home. I want to see every one of you fresh and bright at 8 am tomorrow? Understood?”

 

They all nodded grudgingly and İlkay looked particularly cross. Kehli stopped Woj, “Could you come to my office? We need to brief Roman on the new development.” With that, everyone left to finish their business before going home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really hoping I can finish case 1 in the next 5 chapters. But knowing me, that may not happen :-P I'm also feeling a bit distracted at the moment mostly because of Iker's departure (sobs). I've just watched Sergio's video "Ten Years Together" for Iker and almost burst out in tears. I really want to write something for them and I'm debating if I should write it as part of this story, in which they will definitely have a happy ending, or as a separate story based on real life events. Let me know what you think.
> 
> P.S. I think you all know who Ney is :) He will be properly introduced in later chapters.
> 
> Stem Cell Transplant:
> 
> Types of Donor:  
> \- Autologous: the donor is the recipient.  
> \- Allogeneic: the donor is different from the recipient  
> \- Allo related: the donor is related to the recipient  
> \- Allo unrelated: the donor could be anyone
> 
> Types of Product (for the transplant):  
> \- Apheresis: the product is collected from the blood. Most of the stem cells are in the bone marrow so they need to be mobilised (using some sort of drug) to the blood. Then donor will be connected to an Apheresis machine that takes the blood out, process it to get the stem cells out, and return the rest (plasma, etc) back to the patient.  
> \- Bone Marrow: traditional type of product. It's usually harvested by drilling a hole from the spine of the donor and poking a needle into the hole to take the bone marrow out.  
> \- Cord Blood: a sample of blood taken from a newborn baby's umbilical cord. It's usually stored in some sort of cord blood bank. The donor can use it until he/she reaches a certain age. Then it can be considered public and can be used by anyone after HLA matching. It's usually used for paediatric patients (because the volume is normally small).


	11. Case 1 - The Snow Queen Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mario was trying to help Marco's love life. The team get to meet Beatrix Guardiola and know more about Ney. David was being too serious and Olivier was being Olivier. Woj gave Marco a pleasant surprise.

 

Marco cursed loudly when he was rushing out of his flat the next morning. Mario called him the night before, partly to check how he was doing and partly to apologise for not telling them about his engagement. When Marco let slip that he wasn’t seeing anyone at the moment, Mario, the sentimental idiot, offered to help set him up with someone. When Marco probed a little deeper, he realised that Mario didn’t have any suitable candidate in mind at the moment and was planning to ask every friend of his, including all of his teammates, to see if they know any suitable young man who might be interested in finding a boyfriend. 

 

“Come on Marco,” pleaded Mario, “it can’t hurt. The more people I ask, the higher the chance someone suitable might turn up. You deserve to be happy. I mean you’re so lovely and so fit that anyone with eyes is bound to like you. You just haven’t met the right person yet.”

 

“First of all,” said Marco through gritted teeth, “I don’t want to be the mental gay who’s so desperate that his best friend is asking everyone he knows including the pizza delivery bloke if they know any chap who wants a boyfriend. Secondly, the friend of your friends could be anywhere. Hell, Franck Ribéry might have a cousin in France who’s gay and single. It’s not exactly going to help me though, is it? Besides, I’m working on a murder case now. I don’t have time to date anyone.”

 

“But you’re always working on a case Marco.” Marco could swear that he heard Mario whining. “You can’t let that stop you from living your life though. Oh for the record, I’m never going to set you up with someone even distantly related to Franck. But seriously, even Neven has found someone and he’s a bloody emergency physician. If anyone has a twisted lifestyle it’s him.” Marco had to agree that Mario had a point. He sighed, “Fine. I will go out to meet more people once this case has cooled down a bit. Right now it’s just too crazy. But please don’t ask your friends if they know anyone interested. I’m not that desperate.”

 

Mario laughed, “Okay, I’ll give you some time before I badger you again about this. But you should ask the new lads in your department if they know anyone. You never know. Oh especially Erik since he’s a Dortmund native. Speaking of Erik, tell me more about him!” Mario’s voice was now laced with excitement at the prospect of some new gossip. So Marco went on to fill Mario in on every single detail about Erik and his interaction with Neven. Truth be told, there wasn’t a lot to say at this point. But the lack of materials was made up by Mario’s wild imaginations (that usually turned out to be surprisingly true). When Marco hung up the phone, it was past midnight. The only two things he could remember before blacking out were Mario’s confident claim that Erik would spend the night at Neven’s in no time and the terrifying thoughts of what may happen to him if he were late the next morning.

 

Unfortunately, despite his best effort (he even skipped his morning hair routine to save that precious 3 minutes), he was still 15 minutes late. Ready for his fate, he opened the door to CID and braced himself for a storm. But to his surprise, David was the only one in the main office. 

 

“Have I slept through the past 2 days that it’s Saturday already? Where is everyone?”

 

David looked up from his desk, “Everyone’s off to work. Oh Woj dropped by this morning and left the USB drive on your desk. It has all the information he has gathered about Pep Guardiola, Beatrix, her father, and her friends. Actually Kehli and Olivier are talking to the snow queen herself at this moment.”

 

Marco gaped at him, “Beatrix Guardiola is already here? Why is she being so accommodating?”

 

“She’s not actually. She said that the only available spot she currently has is before 9 am this morning. If we don’t talk to her by then, we have to wait until next week. Apparently she and Pep will be in Munich this weekend to meet some important sponsors over there and it cannot be rescheduled. Since we don’t have the search warrant or any other proof she might be involved, we’re depending on her willing cooperation. So Kehli grabbed the spot and they have been in that room since 7:30 this morning.”

 

Something else in David’s reply caught Marco’s attention. “If they’re going to be in Munich this weekend, can we even catch Pep Guardiola before he leaves? Today is Thursday already!”

 

“Kehli has contacted Pep Guardiola. He’s already learned of the death of Miss Costa from the news and was clearly shaken.”

 

“So is he coming back soon?”

 

“Yes. Actually he has changed his flight after Kehli explained the situation to him. His original plan was to fly directly to Munich. But now he’s taking the flight from Rio to Frankfurt so he could be here by 5:30 tomorrow afternoon, assuming no major delays of course. He’s definitely cooperating.” 

 

Marco went to sit at his desk with a large mug of coffee and tried to work on the files Woj left him. But he was easily distracted and kept looking at the clock. Finally, David had had enough. “Seriously Marco, why don’t you just relax and wait for them to come out? It’s almost 9 anyway. If you keep whipping your head like this, you’ll get both of us sick.”

 

Thankfully, the door to Kehli’s office opened 5 minutes later. The woman that walked out of Kehli’s office was a tall willowy woman. She was stunningly beautiful with sleek light brown hair, fair porcelain-like skin, and big piercing blue eyes. The Chanel dress she was wearing hugged her body nicely, showing off her figure and she was holding herself elegantly and gracefully. Despite her obvious attractiveness, her haughtiness and the cold look in her eyes made her rather intimidating. When Marco’s eyes met hers, he felt a chill going down his spine. He looked sideways at David and was unsurprised to find David frowning at Beatrix Guardiola.

 

“Mr Kehl, as I have said before, my husband’s campaign is now at a critical stage. With only 4 weeks left before the election, any scandal, any mark upon his name could be fatal. So I would highly appreciate if you could be discreet about our visits. We would then of course, do our best to cooperate with you.” Even though she was asking for a favour, Beatrix still sounded imperious.

 

“Of course Mrs Guardiola,” said Kehli politely, “We understand the situation of you and Mr Guardiola. We will conduct the investigation in private with you and we really appreciate your help.”

 

After Beatrix left the room, Marco rushed to Olivier’s side. “So, how did it go? Have you found anything useful?”

 

“Well, that was a lovely hour with our dear Beatrix. She’s such a sweet and humble lady,” said Olivier sarcastically. He switched to a more serious tone. “First thing first, Beatrix Guardiola confirmed that her husband called her from his Blackberry before he met Miss Costa for dinner the night she was killed. Pep also texted her when he was leaving for the airport, which was at around 6:15 pm that night. We saw the text. Beatrix also confessed that she had known about her husband’s affair with Miss Costa for a long time, almost since the beginning. They have reached an agreement on this and she said that it has never bothered her.”

 

“Not even a bit?” Marco couldn’t believe it. How could any woman remain completely indifferent to her husband’s affairs?

 

“Nope.” It was Kehli who replied and he looked deeply troubled. “She said that she was even happy for her husband. ‘If I cannot give Pep what he so desperately wanted, at least someone else can’. That was what she said.”

 

“But she’s not the type of altruistic person who will accept an unfavourable situation and feel happy for the sake of others,” cried Marco in disbelief. “Happy for him my arse. What a load of rubbish!”

 

“Look Marco,” said David patiently, “what you’ve got to realise is that Beatrix Guardiola is not a normal person. She’s a psychopath and her brain is wired differently. All you’ve just said is based on one assumption: she feels certain emotional connection to her husband. But one major differentiating factor between psychopaths and normal people is their inability to form real emotional attachment with others. Psychopaths only form some sort of shallow relationships with others in order to achieve their own goals. So I believe Beatrix Guardiola was telling the truth. The only things she care about are the political career of Pep Guardiola and the stability of their marriage. She’d rather Pep find comfort elsewhere than risk him being extremely unhappy about the lack of family comfort and thus seeking a divorce. Miss Costa was the perfect candidate for a secret affair. She was sweet, shy, and loyal. She entered into the affair to save her mother’s life. So she must feel indebted to Pep and wouldn’t cause any trouble or ask for more than he could give. No wonder Beatrix was pleased with Pep’s choice.”

 

Now Marco could see why they all believed her. “I see what you’re saying and that makes sense now. So what did Beatrix say about her interaction with Miss Costa then?”

 

“She said that she had never met Miss Costa in person,” answered Olivier, “She was planning to meet her after Pep got back from Brazil. The election was drawing nearer and if this affair got out, Pep’s opponent would definitely use it against him. So she wanted to meet Miss Costa and talk about the affair. Pep didn’t like the idea at first but agreed with her after some consideration. He told Miss Costa about it before he left for Brazil. That explained the voicemail Pep left on Miss Costa’s mobile.”

 

“Does she sound convincing when she said that she’d never met Miss Costa before?” asked David, though it seemed like he already knew the answer but didn’t like it.

 

Olivier sighed, “I think you know. Yes, she sounded very calm and convincing. We’re dealing with a tough one here. She’s not an impulsive and erratic sociopath but a highly educated and very calculated psychopath who feels no moral qualms about hurting others to get what she wants. She probably views Miss Costa’s death as an unavoidable casualty. So she’s not going to get nervous about lying as long as it can get her out of trouble. She’s also smart so I bet she can think of a lie on the spot and pass the lie detector with no problem at all.”

 

“This really makes our job more difficult,” said Kehli, still frowning, “We can’t expect to get any reaction out of her so we have to rely purely on evidence. But without a warrant, we can’t search her place. We must find out if there is any reason why she wanted to kill Miss Costa. Olivier, find out anything you can about Miss Costa and her relationship with Pep Guardiola and how that might be a threat to Beatrix. Dig more into her past, her family, her friends, her ex. Maybe one of them knew about the affair and could let it slip. Marco, after you’re done with researching about Beatrix’s friends, I want you to work on fingerprints analysis. I have requested Beatrix to leave her fingerprints. I want to see if hers match anything we’ve found in the crime scene. Erik and Mesut are working on DNA profiling, aren’t they?”

 

David and Olivier nodded so Kehli continued, “Good. Beatrix also left her blood and skin samples. We can build a DNA profile for her now. Let’s hope this will prove useful soon.”

 

Everyone returned to their jobs. Marco started reading Woj’s documents. They were very detailed and rather fun to read. In fact, Marco thought he could detect a trace of similarity between Woj’s and Tomáš’s writing. He wondered if Woj was a fan of Tomáš as well. He also watched the recordings of their conversations and had to admit that Woj was absolutely right. None of these people were close to Beatrix and she didn’t seem to care about nor trust them either. But something was not right. “David!”

 

“What?” David unglued his gaze from the desktop and asked in surprise. 

 

“Come and check this out,” said Marco eagerly, pointing at screen of his desktop. On the screen was the video recording of Woj’s first interview with Beatrix from two months ago and she looked…

 

“She has dyed her hair!” exclaimed David.

 

“Exactly!” said Marco excitedly. He paused the video at a close-up of Beatrix. “She had silvery blonde hair in this video and if you look closely, you can tell that it wasn’t bleached. It’s her natural hair colour.”

 

“And now she has light brown hair,” continued David, his excitement palpable too. “It was almost the exact same shade as Miss Costa’s! She wanted to make it more difficult for us to distinguish her hair from Miss Costa’s, if she happened to leave one at the crime scene. Besides, if any of Miss Costa’s neighbour saw Beatrix in the building, they might even mistake her for Miss Costa. She’s clever.”

 

“But this is not fool-proof, is it?” Marco wondered out loud. “I mean if she did leave her hair in Miss Costa’s flat, we’re bound to know it’s hers using DNA profiling.”

 

“Yes, but you see, the investigation would have stopped after a week at the most unless we could prove it’s a murder. Beatrix was trying to make this look like a natural death and if Miss Costa hadn’t been clever enough to leave us a clue, she would have succeeded. If we hadn’t joined you, the case would be dropped before the three of you had time to analyse all the DNA samples. By the way, I don’t think Beatrix knows that we had established this as a murder case. Woj has actually listened to Kehli about not reporting it as a murder, believe it or not.”

 

“Makes sense,” agreed Marco. “I’m going to work on fingerprints analysis after lunch. I hope she did leave some hair or fingerprints behind.”

 

When Marco walked into his laboratory after a quick lunch on his desk, he found Erik busy mixing some chemical solution. “What are you preparing?”

 

“The extraction solution to get the DNA out,” replied Erik without looking up.

 

“How much longer is it going to take?”

 

“I’ve already dissolved the hair samples in the digestion solutions and incubated them for 4 hours. So another 3 hours. Mesut should have Beatrix’s DNA samples ready by then. We could run them together.”

 

Marco was impressed. They used to do their DNA digestion manually, which took forever on hair samples. Then he realised that Erik did not get a graduate degree in chemistry for nothing. He went to his bench and started where he left off two days ago. Fingerprints analysis was tedious boring work and Marco’s eyes soon started to feel strained from looking through the loupe. He ploughed on though, hoping he would find something. But none of the fingerprints so far matched that of Beatrix nor any known fingerprints in INTERPOL database. Marco sighed and started organising the results after he finished all the fingerprints from the bedroom and study. He then started verifying Shinji’s results and was only interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Kehli.

 

“Marco, supper in 10 min. Finish what you’re doing and meet us outside now.”

 

Marco checked his phone. It was 7 pm already. He cracked his neck, feeling that he needed a massage. Erik was nowhere to be seen. Marco figured he must have left to run PCR on those DNA samples when he was focused on the fingerprints. He rose slowly from his seat and walked towards the main office.

 

He was surprised to see Woj in the office, deep in conversation with Olivier. David was listening intently while Joe was dozing off on his shoulder. Marco was deeply impressed by Joe’s exceptional balancing sense. David was significantly shorter than Joe. Shinji was helping Kehli set up supper while Mesut, Erik, and İlkay were huddled around İlkay’s desk. Kehli soon called everyone to supper and they started attacking the food with great gusto. 

 

“Why aren’t you eating Woj?” asked Kehli after a while.

 

Woj grimaced and took a swig of tea, “I spent the whole afternoon talking to burnouts. They were smoking the whole time I was talking to them. Trust me, you wouldn’t have too much of an appetite after that either.”

 

Everyone looked at Woj sympathetically, except İlkay, who shrugged, “I bet I can still eat a cow after that. Nothing works as a better cure than a good big meal.” 

 

“Yeah but you can eat next to a corpse. So you don’t really count, do you?” said Marco sarcastically. Luckily İlkay was too busy chewing on a large chuck of steak to retort back.

 

“Anyway Woj,” said Kehli quickly, “what did those dealers say?”

 

“Just to clarify, they’re not drug dealers, just buyers. Some of them may do some marijuana business on the side but none of them are into the hard drug business. But they have talked to their sources,” continued Woj. “None of their sources, including those in neighbouring cities, has seen Beatrix nor any of her friends or family. I have also sent their pictures to my contacts in cities where Beatrix’s close friends are at but no luck there either.”

 

“What about Miss Costa?” asked Erik.

 

“No, they didn’t recognise her either.”

 

“So who gave those cocaine to Miss Costa then?” Shinji asked the question they had all been wondering.

 

“I had done some research on Miss Costa’s friends,” said David, “after I finished going through those deleted files. By the way, none of those files has any information relevant to the case.”

 

“We did find some interesting fictions though. You may want to take a look Olivier,” interrupted Joe cheerfully, “You know, to spice up your sex life.”

 

Olivier high-fived Joe while Mesut blushed furiously. David closed his eyes for a second, as if praying for patience. “As I was saying,” he spoke in a warning tone, “nothing was relevant to the case.”

 

“Lighten up Silva,” smirked Olivier, “You’re wound up a little too tight sometimes. I don’t think Harty mind though.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” exclaimed David amongst the laughter of everyone else. “Anyway,” he continued valiantly, ignoring them all, “I can’t find suggestions that any of her friends may buy cocaine. Most of them are hardworking students in medical school and none of them are the wild rebellious type.”

 

“Sounds like they’re right up your alley then,” sniggered Olivier.

 

“Oli,” said Mesut softly, still blushing slightly, and Olivier stopped at once. 

 

“What about her family? And that Ney? Have you got anything useful to say Olivier?” asked Kehli with particular emphasis on the word useful.

 

“Of course I do Kehli.” Olivier flashed Kehli his most winning smile. “In fact, I have talked to none other than Gabriela’s father, Mr Costa, about Gabriela’s ex-boyfriend.”

 

“Really Oli?” Mesut blurted out in surprise and Olivier’s smile could not have been any brighter. “You bet Mes. His full name is Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior. Bit of a mouthful so everyone calls him Neymar. He grew up with Gabriela but his family is quite poor. According to Mr Costa, he has always been a difficult boy growing up, very different from the sweet and shy Gabriela. But you know what they say, opposites attract. They fell in love with each other in their teens, shortly before Gabriela’s family moved to Barcelona. The distance between Barcelona and Brazil was not enough to kill their love, nor was the disapproval of Mr Costa. Neymar had worked extremely hard to get a scholarship to go to university in Barcelona and everything was great until Gabriela went to Dortmund as an exchange student. She didn’t return after the semester was over. So Neymar went to Dortmund and when he returned, he looked devastated. He went to Mr Costa’s and almost cried his heart out. But he refused to tell Mr Costa why they split up. He dropped out of university and basically disappeared from his former social circle. Mr Costa bumped into him once, about a year after his breakup and could hardly recognise him. He was extremely thin and gaunt. Mr Costa suspected that he had resorted to alcohol and maybe even drugs after he split up with Gabriela.”

 

They all stared at each other, unable to believe what they had just heard. “So, so is he the one who gave Miss Costa the cocaine?” asked Joe, still looking stunned.

 

“I think this is the only possible explanation,” said David. “The question is, how did Beatrix know about it? Did Neymar maybe try to blackmail Pep to get more money? Was he involved in some illegal activities? Because if he did and Beatrix knew about it, it would be a sure motive for her to terminate this potential threat to Pep’s campaign.” 

 

“Has he contacted Miss Costa?” asked İlkay and the question was undoubtedly directed towards Joe. “He must have if he was the one who gave her the cocaine.”

 

“I have restored all the deleted files on both of her mobiles,” answered Joe. “The iPhone didn’t contain much information. Most of the calls from unknown numbers are from taxi companies, marketing calls, etc. You get the idea. Her Blackberry contains even less information if possible. Apart from calls from Pep Guardiola’s Blackberry, there was only a handful others. Most of them are marketing calls and one from a number I couldn’t trace. But I did find several deleted calls from the same number. They were made a couple weeks to a month ago and the number belongs to a public payphone in Dortmund.”

 

“This must be it then!” said Erik excitedly. “So how about this? Neymar contacted Miss Costa using the payphone so he could give her the cocaine for some reason we don’t know. But unfortunately for him, or her, Beatrix had bugged Miss Costa’s mobile so she could keep tabs on Miss Costa. That’s how Beatrix knew about them. Because Neymar could jeopardise Pep’s campaign, Beatrix killed Miss Costa.”

 

“Why didn’t she kill him then?” asked Marco. “It would be easier, wouldn’t it? Less likely to be linked to her.”

 

“I think it’s because if Beatrix did kill Neymar, Miss Costa would not stay quiet,” answered Olivier, still thinking. “She would definitely go to the police and press on the case. But Neymar may not do the same for Miss Costa because he came to the country illegally and would naturally avoid the police at all costs. Mrs Costa was dead and Mr Costa is abroad. So the only one left is Pep Guardiola. But he’s busy with his campaign and their relationship is not something he wants to make public.”

 

“So can we find out if Beatrix has bugged Miss Costa’s Blackberry?” asked Shinji. 

 

“It would be difficult,” answered Joe. “I know there are programs out there that allow you to spy on another mobile. Just call them and talk for 30 seconds. The software will then be installed on the mobile and voila. They won’t even know because those programs are automatically hidden. I haven’t found anything like that on Miss Costa’s Blackberry but again, mobile technology isn’t my strong suit. I’ll try again but we probably need an expert to take a look.”

 

“Come on Harty,” said Mesut, “don’t be so modest. If you can’t figure it out, I doubt many other people can. Let’s try to prove that Neymar was in Dortmund and made the call first before we go into the mobile hacking business, shall we?”

 

“I agree,” said Kehli. “This is critical. Any news from the lab?”

 

It turned out that nothing exciting had happened in the laboratory. Shinji had finished most of the hair samples and still hadn’t found any drug contents. İlkay had submitted all the pathology tests to an outside laboratory and was waiting for results now. Mesut and Erik were able to establish the DNA profile for Beatrix Guardiola but none of the samples they ran from the crime scene matched her profile. Marco’s fingerprints analysis was also uneventful.

 

“Why don’t you pass your results to me so I can validate them?” suggested İlkay after Marco finished recounting his day’s work. “That way you can move to fingerprints from other rooms.”

 

“Great idea İlkay,” said Kehli before Marco could reply. “It will have to wait until tomorrow though. We should also schedule another interview with Beatrix Guardiola about her hair. I’d love to hear what excuses she can come up with.”

 

As they were clearing up their supper plates, Marco found himself next to Woj, who was finally looking less pale. Marco couldn’t help but say, “I love your style of writing. Reminds me of someone I really admire.”

 

Woj quirked his eyebrow, “Let me guess. Am I talking to a Tomáš fan now?”

 

Marco almost squealed with delight. “So I was right! Are you a fan of Tomáš too?”

 

Woj laughed, “Boy, I never thought Tomáš’ fans would be so, eh, enthusiastic. Yes, I love his writing and he’s the one who inspired me to be a journalist.”

 

“I almost chose journalism when I was in university too,” Marco was nodding fervently now. “It’s all because of him. How do you know about him? I thought he is only popular in Germany.”

 

“Well, you know he used to spend a lot of time in London when he was still with Die Zeit. I went to one of his talks and was really impressed. So I started following his articles and had the opportunity to meet him in person.”

 

“You’ve met Tomáš Rosický in person?” Marco could not keep the excitement out of his voice.

 

Woj chuckled, “Yes, I’ve met him. Well please don’t wet your pants, but actually I’ve been friends with him for a while. He was the one who recommended Dortmund to me.”

 

Marco could hardly believe his ears. Here he was, talking to a real-life friend of Tomáš Rosický, who could potentially introduce him to Tomáš. Sensing Marco’s excitement, Woj smiled, “Yes I can introduce you to Tomáš. He’s currently in Spain but he should be back soon.”

 

Marco suddenly remembered something. “Are you close to Tomáš?”

 

Woj shrugged, “Close enough. Why?”

 

“Has he ever told you that he had a car accident three months ago?”

 

“Oh you mean the car accident with the lover of Andrei Abramovich? Yeah.”

 

Marco could hardly suppress his excitement. This could be his chance to prove that Tomáš really wasn’t involved. “What has he told about the accident?”

 

Woj frowned, “You’re not suspecting him, are you?” Before Marco could answer, Woj continued, “As a matter of fact, Tomáš called me right after he sent that chap, Héctor Bellerín, to the emergency room. I freaked out of course and asked him to facetime with me. He was in the hospital and he seemed unharmed. Let me check.” He pulled out his mobile and started scrolling through his call history. “There.” He handed the phone to Marco and he could see that the call from Tomáš was made at 1:52 am that night. 

 

Feeling thoroughly relieved, Marco beamed at Woj, “Thank you so much for the information. It makes me feel so much better. And,” he hesitated, “could you please not mention this to Tomáš? I don’t want him to think…”

 

“That you have doubted him? Sure,” smiled Woj. “And I was serious about the offer. Tomáš would be absolutely chuffed to meet his fan, especially such a good-looking one.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm doing the characters justice. I wanted to give them more depths so they're not one-dimensional. Anyway, Case 1 should be done in 2 more chapters, as I have dragged it on for too long.
> 
> Oh and Congratulations to Héctor's contract extension with Arsenal! COYG!


	12. Case 1 - Down to the Wire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of progress has been made and the team is closer to cracking the case than ever before. It's Joe's turn to be a fanboy and Erik was a little cross with Neven :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have finally sped up. We're getting closer to the end of Case 1. I feel like I've neglected Mats and Neven for a while so I've decided to let them join in the fun as well :)

Marco arrived at the CID in high spirits on Friday. For one thing, he was finally able to put his doubts on Neven and Tomáš aside. For another, he could potentially meet Tomáš, his role model and inspiration. He was humming happily as he walked into the main office at 7:45 am and was greeted with a tired looking Mesut. “Blimey Mesut you look knackered! Are you alright?” 

 

“I’m fi..fi..fine,” said Mesut, failing to stifle a huge yawn.

 

“Have you been here all night?” asked Marco shrewdly.

 

“No not all night,” said Mesut indignantly. At Marco’s quirked eyebrow, he looked a little sheepish, “just until 3 am.”

 

“Oh for Christ’s sake Mesut, you’ve to get some sleep!” said Marco exasperatedly. “You can’t keep on like this forever. Olivier should have stopped you.”

 

“Exactly what I’ve told him.” Kehli’s voice came from behind them and he looked rather serious. “But anyway, Mesut was able to finish what Erik had started and had extracted DNA from most of the hair samples from the bedroom. Erik has already started running PCR on those samples. You should take a nap Mesut. This is an order!”

 

Mesut nodded, swaying slightly on the spot. Right on cue, Olivier appeared almost out of thin air and managed to catch Mesut before he fell on to the floor. Kehli sighed, “Kids these days. Roman’s going to do his nut if he finds Mesut passed out on the floor.” He turned to Marco, “You know what you need to do, don’t you?” 

 

Marco nodded, “Fingerprints as usual. I’ll check with İlkay before I start. Has he arrived already?”

 

Kehli actually snorted, “Have you seen anything in this world that could stop İlkay from getting to the office at 6 am when there is a major case going on? Yes, he’s in the laboratory already, validating your fingerprints analysis. By the way, Pep Guardiola’s flight has departed on time so make sure you wrap everything up by 5 pm. I want everyone to be present at his interview.”

 

So Marco continued with fingerprints analysis next to İlkay, who had his giant headphones on while shaking his head with whatever atrocity he was listening to. How he managed to multi-task like this remained a mystery to everyone. Marco soon managed to block out İlkay’s shaking head to focus on the task at hand and was only interrupted by a text from Mats.

 

“Are you still on for a drink or dinner tonight? I’ll be done by 8 so whenever you’re free.” 

 

Marco thought for a moment. He figured that three hours should be enough for Pep Guardiola to finish whatever he had to say so he texted Mats back.

 

“Y 2nite wrks. is 9 k?”

 

Mats’ return text came within 30 seconds and Marco could feel his irritation in the text. “Can’t you start typing like a normal human being rather than a high school girl? Yes, 9 pm tonight works for me. Why don’t we meet at our usual place at 9? Phone me if anything changes. I might have to kill myself if I read your text again.”

 

Kehli came to fetch them at 5 pm so they could have a quick meeting before Pep’s interview. Olivier, who was out with Woj to talk to local drug users about Neymar, was the only one missing. Unfortunately, none of them had any good news to share. Marco and İlkay’s still hadn’t found a single fingerprint that belonged to Beatrix Guardiola even though they had gone through most of the fingerprints in the living room already.

 

“She must be wearing gloves then,” said David, voicing everyone’s thought. “It made sense because it could also prevent her from leaving any touch DNA evidence. Not that she needed to touch a lot of places if she had a gun pointing at Miss Costa.”

 

Mesut and Erik’s DNA analysis on the hair samples didn’t bring them any further either. None of the hair samples they had analysed so far matched the DNA of Beatrix Guardiola. Shinji, on the other hand, had finally finished the hair sample analysis and found no traces of drugs in Miss Costa’s hair.

 

“At least we have some good news,” said Kehli. “We can now safely say that Miss Costa hadn’t taken any drugs for 18 months before. Shinji you can help with Mesut and Erik’s DNA analysis. That’s our best hope. Anything from you, David, Joe?”

 

Joe looked frustrated and angry with himself, which was fairly unusual for him. “I’ve tried all day but could not find any evidence of Miss Costa’s blackberry being hacked. I swear I’ve tried everything I know but…” he almost choked on his voice. David put a placating hand on Joe’s shoulder and started rubbing soothing circles on his back.

 

“Don’t blame yourself Joe!” said Kehli sternly. “Like you said, you’ve done your best. We will find someone who’s an expert in mobile hacking and figure it out. David?”

 

“I haven’t found anything useful on Neymar either,” said David almost apologetically, his hand still on Joe’s back. “I can find everything about him until 3 months ago, flat lease, customs records, etc. But apparently he terminated his lease 3 months ago and no records of him could be found afterwards. He must have left Spain and entered another country illegally. Somebody must have helped him. Have Olivier and Woj found anything? Where are them anyway?”

 

“Olivier just phoned me. They haven’t found anything either. None of the drug heads they’ve talked to today had ever met Neymar. This doesn’t say much though. If he’s just in charge of transporting drugs, he may not need to meet any real customers,” said Kehli, the distaste in his voice quite clear. “Woj said that he will see if he can actually talk to an actual drug dealer but I don’t know. It might be too dangerous. Anyway, Olivier and Woj should be here in 10 min.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Olivier and Woj arrived right before Pep Guardiola, who looked weary and heartbroken. Marco couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the man, knowing how much this must have hurt him. After a brief introduction and exchange of pleasantries, Kehli quickly lead Pep into the interview room. Olivier and David followed Kehli into the room while the rest of the group gathered around the monitor that showed the live recording of the interview.

 

“Mr Guardiola,” started Kehli, “I realise this must be a difficult time for you.”

 

When Pep spoke, his voice was filled with emotions, “I have tried phoning her after I left and she never picked up, I thought she was mad at me because I told her that Beatrix wanting to meet her. Then when I was checking the Dortmund news, it was splashed all across the front page. My dearest sweetest Gabi, cold in a bag and …” He choked and tears were pouring silently down his face.

 

David remained silent for a while so Pep could collect himself before prompting delicately, “How long have you known Miss Costa?”

 

“I met her at a hospital more than a year ago. She was volunteering there while I was involved in a charity project with them. It was love at first sight for me.” Pep’s eyes were still wet with tears. “I started pursuing her right away but she told me that she had a boyfriend whom she loved very much. She returned all of my presents and didn’t pick up my calls. I almost gave up hope, feeling that I didn’t deserve someone so good, until she came to find me two months later. Her mother was diagnosed with cancer and she needed a bone marrow transplant. She asked me if I could lend her the money for the procedure and she would pay me back after she started working. I did the despicable thing.” He put his face in his hands and his voice came out muffled, “I blackmailed her and told her that I would only give her the money if she agreed to be my lover. I was a selfish bastard and I hurt the woman I love the most in the world.” He again dissolved into tears and the room was filled with his heart-wrenching sobs.

 

After his sobs had died down, Olivier asked the critical question, “What do you know about her ex-boyfriend?”

 

Pep was a bit surprised, “I’ve never met him before. I just knew that Gabi split up with him after she agreed to be with me. I think she still loved him though.”

 

“What about your wife Beatrix? How does she about the relationship?”

 

“Beatrix has known it all along. We’re very open about it and she doesn’t mind it at all.”

 

“But she wanted to meet Miss Costa before you left,” probed Olivier, “any reason why?”

 

“Beatrix was just worried about the campaign. It was just preventative measure so if it did get out, we could play our cards right. Nothing personal.”

 

Olivier nodded, “I see. So was Miss Costa behaving strangely recently? Have you noticed anything?”

 

“Her mother passed away recently so she had been feeling mournful for a while. But she was still doing her day-to-day activities as usual. She did ask me for more some money. The amount was quite significant but not that unreasonable. I didn’t ask her why. I suppose she was just doing some activities to keep her mind occupied.”

 

Everyone outside looked at each other. They were all thinking the same thing: if Beatrix knew about this, she had every reason to feel concerned. But how could they prove that Beatrix knew?

 

The interview went on for another hour or two, often interrupted by Pep’s emotional outburst. They watched as Olivier, David and Kehli grilled Pep about his relationship with Gabriela and had to conclude at the end that Pep Guardiola did love Gabriela with all his heart and knew nothing about Neymar. Pep also left his fingerprints and DNA samples, which were carefully stored by İlkay.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After Pep left, everyone agreed to take the next day off but come back to work on Sunday. Marco checked his mobile and found a missed call and two texts from Mats.

 

“I’ve just tried calling you. There’s a change of plan and I can’t meet you for dinner. I do want to talk to you so can you meet me in Neven’s office after dinner? Just give me a ring when you’re done.”

“On second thought, why don’t you bring some of your new friends with you? This is important.”

 

Marco stared at his mobile, unable to believe his eyes. Mats was asking him to bring Erik, David, and Joe to meet him in Neven’s office. Maybe Neven somehow found out that they suspected him and had decided to kill them after he convinced Mats to help him. Just as his imagination was running wild, Erik interrupted him. “Marco, are you alright? Do you want to get dinner together?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Marco decided to face his destiny bravely, “Nothing I’m fine. Listen, Mats wants to talk to us after dinner, you know, you, me, David, and Joe. So why don’t we grab a dinner together and meet him afterwards?”

 

So they had a quick dinner at a nearby restaurants. None of them talked too much, as they all felt exhausted from the week. Joe finally broke the silence after they settled themselves in Marco’s car. “So where are we meeting Mats?”

 

Marco hesitated. Thinking that they would have to know eventually, he answered curtly, “In Neven’s office.”

 

Before any of them could voice their surprise and concern, Marco had already started the engine and was driving at top speed. After 10 minutes, they were inside Marien-Klinik. Luckily, Mario Balotelli wasn’t there.

 

“Why does Mats want to talk to us?” asked Erik as they walked toward’s Neven’s office.

 

“Dunno,” shrugged Marco. “He said it was important though and specifically asked me to bring you lot.” He proceeded to knock on Neven’s door and was greeted with Neven’s usual smile.

 

“Hey Marco, nice of you to drop by. And I see that you’ve brought friends. Excellent. Please, do come in. Anyone wants anything to drink?”

 

Not surprisingly, Marco found Mats in Neven’s office. He greeted them in his usually elegant manner, only pausing slightly when Neven wrapped his arm around Erik’s shoulder. To everyone’s astonishment, Erik sneaked his arm around Neven’s waist and pressed a kiss on his cheek. Brilliant, Marco thought to himself gloomily, Mario the sentimental git was right. Before he had time to dwell on the matter any further, Mats spoke up, “We would like to speak to you about Neymar.”

 

Marco choked on his water and started coughing violently. Joe thumped him on the back while David’s sharp eyes locked with Mats’, “How do you know about Neymar? What kind of information do you have?”

 

It was Neven who spoke, “Actually, I found out about Neymar. It was sort of an accident really.”

 

“What do you mean an accident?” asked David quickly. “Did someone let something slip?”

 

Neven looked at Erik apologetically, “Well, sort of. I guess you didn’t even realise but you talk in your sleep Erik dear.”

 

After a short pause, everyone started talking at the same time.

 

“Seriously? This is how you found out? It’s ridiculous!”

“You must be joking Nev. I didn’t even know I talk in my sleep.”

“Wicked! So you’ve already jumped Erik. Well done Neven!”

“How come everyone else is getting laid?! And why is Mario always right?”

 

“Silence everyone, please!” Mats had to shout over the noise and everyone finally shut up. “Good. So back to the main topic! Neven overheard Erik muttering about Miss Costa and Neymar in his sleep.”

 

“And it caught my attention immediately because, well, I have a patient called Neymar. He’s been in my charge for over two weeks now. Kidney problems.”

 

“Naturally, Neven figured out what was going on and he asked me for my help.” said Mats with great ease, ignoring others’ dumbfounded expression. “So I came after work to talk to Neymar. I was able to not only get interesting information out of him but also persuade him to speak to you, under the condition that he would not be punished for his cooperation of course.”

 

“So,” said David, as he struggled to compose himself, “so he’s agreed to provide us with information on the case after evading the police for the past 3 months? How did you do that?”

 

“Well,” said Mats with badly concealed pride, “I suppose I’m decent with my persuasion skills. Shall we go see him now? Oh by the way, his friend is with him if you don’t mind.”

 

Neymar’s ward was close to Neven’s office and he was the only occupant. It was hard to  associate this emaciated young man who had a gaunt and hollow face with the happy and slightly cocky teenager in Gabriela’s old pictures. Neymar’s friend, a short but muscular young man, was standing next to his bed. He smiled at them and Marco realised that Joe had stopped in his tracks. “Joe?”

 

“You’re, you’re, I mean, you’re Alexis Sánchez.” Joe stuttered, his face flushed with excitement. Marco was slightly alarmed at this and looked automatically at David, who seemed perfectly composed.

 

The young man smiled, “Judging by your tone, I take it that you’re a fellow computer aficionado.”

 

Joe nodded fervently, “I was studying database management and network security in graduate school. But of course, no one can claim to be a computer expert in front of you.”

 

“So am I to understand that Mr Santos’ friend, Mr Sánchez, is a computer expert?” asked Erik slowly.

 

“He’s the absolute best,” piped up Joe before Alexis could even open his mouth, “the computer genius of our generation. They say there’s nothing you can’t do! But I thought you were in Barcelona.”

 

“That was a long time ago,” smiled Alexis. “But it was a good time and that was where I met Ney. I moved to London a year ago but after I heard about Ney’s problem, I asked them to transfer me to the Dortmund office for several months so I can look after Ney.” He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Look, I don’t know what the protocol is. But Ney is my best friend and if there’s anything I can do to help.”

 

“Thank you so much. As a matter of fact, we do need your help. I assume that you can figure out if a mobile has been bugged or not,” said Marco. “Seems like tonight is our lucky night.”

 

“I think we should talk to Mr Santos first,” said David quietly.

 

“Please, call me Neymar,” said Neymar in a frail voice. “Mats and Neven have talked to me and I…” he hesitated.

 

“Don’t worry,” said David soothingly, “this conversation is private and we will make sure that your act of courage will not cause you any trouble.”

 

“Thank you,” Neymar smiled at them gratefully. “Well, I suppose I should go all the way back to tell you my history with Gabi.” For the next hour, he proceeded to tell them the detailed story between Gabriela and himself until their split-up a year ago. 

 

“For all these years, Gabi had been my motivation to work hard, to fight for a better future for us. After the split-up, it felt like it had all been for nothing. So I just, gave up. I started drinking a lot and when the alcohol could no longer numb my pain, I turned to drugs. Bad idea,” he laughed bitterly, “look at where I am now. Even worse than that was my money problem. I wasn’t rich to start with and before I realised it, I was heavily in debt and had to sell drugs to pay it off. I came to Dortmund, um, in secret three months ago because the drugs I brought with me from Spain can sell so much more here. A fella here helped me settle in Dortmund.”

 

“Who’s this fella?” asked David.

 

Neymar shook his head, “I’m sorry but I can’t tell you. He’s a very powerful man. Even though his business is never strictly legal, he has connections with the ones in power so he’s never in trouble.  He was the one who suggested that I move to Dortmund. But he and his friends were a rough crowd and he wasn’t happy with me later. So I had to run for it in the end after I gave Gabi all of the stuff I had. She didn’t want to take it at all but I had managed to convince her. Then I got sick and had to go to a hospital. I didn’t have anything with me so I asked Gabi to lend me some. I think she asked that man for money and he gave it to her. I never wanted to cause her any trouble I swear. I still love her. It’s just, I have no one else to go to,” his voice broke and he couldn’t continue.

 

“Have you phoned her using this number?” asked Joe, showing him a piece of paper with the payphone number written on it.

 

Neymar nodded, “She gave me the number of her Blackberry ages ago and I didn’t want the call to be linked to us. I was asking her to hide cocaine for me after all. So I called her Blackberry using a public payphone.”

 

“Send that Blackberry to me,” said Alexis suddenly, his voice serious, “I will take a look and I will crack it.”

 

They looked at each other and David spoke at last, “Thank you for offering Alexis. I will ring Kehli right now to tell him what had just happened. If I get the all-clear signal, you can come back to CID with us to get the Blackberry. You have to work with Joe though.”

 

As David stepped out to make the call, Marco approached Mats. He didn’t think they would be disturbed, as everyone else was busy. Neven was talking to Erik and unless Marco was very much mistaken, he was apologising for the sleep talk disaster earlier. Erik’s expression was hard to read but Marco could sense stiffness in his posture. Joe was talking to Alexis with dreamy eyes and a swooning expression on his face. Feeling slightly sick, Marco turned back to Mats and told him in hushed whispers everything he had discussed with the officers and Woj about Héctor Bellerín’s alibi. When he had finished, Mats didn’t look entirely convinced but seemed ready to let the matter rest. “I think that’s all we can find and I really can’t raise another argument against his innocence. I’m glad though and I shall apologise to Neven for ever doubting him.”

 

David soon returned to the room, “Kehli phoned Roman and we’re good. When do you want to work on it Alexis?”

 

“The sooner, the better,” answered Alexis quickly.

 

“Joe and I will take you to the CID to get the Blackberry then. You lads can work on it whenever you want. Oh if Joe’s bugging you too much, ring me and I will sort him out.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Since he didn’t get home until midnight, Marco spent most of Saturday catching up on sleep. When he woke up on Sunday morning, he finally felt fresh and alive again. He arrived at the office at 8:30 am to find everyone except Kehli and Joe gathered in the main office.

 

“What have I missed?”

 

“Nothing really Marco,” answered Olivier with a smirk, “Alexis has just told us that he found evidence of Beatrix bugging Gabriela’s Blackberry.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Yeah, this Alexis fella was pretty good apparently. You should see Joe’s face. He’s like a lovesick puppy. I swear he was ready to wet his pants at any moment.”

 

“Well, passing over Joe’s pants, how did he find out?”

 

“Do you really think we can understand what he had said with all the technical terms? The general idea is that Beatrix bought another mobile and one of those spying programs, which was installed on Gabriela’s Blackberry when Beatrix called her. Alexis got evidence of this and remember the number Joe discovered on Miss Costa’s mobile? Alexis was able to trace the number to Beatrix.”

 

“Kehli is talking to Roman with Joe and Alexis now,” Mesut joined in the conversation as well, “to see if we can generate a warrant based on this.”

 

As they were talking, Kehli and Roman walked out of Roman’s office, Joe and Alexis trailing behind them. Kehli was still arguing with Roman, “I don’t understand what other information you need. We’ve provided you with evidence of her bugging the phone. She also has a clear motive.”

 

“I’m sorry Kehli but you know this is not enough. She could come up with a thousand excuses. So she bugged the phone. She could say it was just a preventative measure. So she dyed her hair. There is no law against dying your hair. I know that she’s probably the one but you cannot generate a warrant based on what we have. We need some sort of concrete proof that she had actually been inside Miss Costa’s flat.”

 

Marco knew that Roman was right of course. It was just hard to face the reality sometimes. Kehli sighed, “Okay everyone. I know it’s frustrating but we need to find evidence that she was in Miss Costa’s flat. Fingerprints, DNA, I don’t care what. Just find it please.”

 

So they resumed their analysis. Marco felt that he had looked at enough fingerprints to last him a lifetime. Luckily he was joined by Olivier and İlkay, which greatly sped up the process. Everyone else except Joe, who was writing reports of Alexis findings, was working on DNA analysis.

 

As the day wore on, Marco could feel the tension growing in CID. Olivier kept on leaving the room to sneak a peek into Mesut’s laboratory. İlkay was shaking his head at higher frequencies that Marco felt dizzy just looking at him. Kehli kept downing coffee cup after cup like they were water. Joe was attacking his keyboard with such ferocity that it started shaking every time he touched it. Woj and Alexis, both of whom had decided to stay for some reason, were playing chess at a snail pace, clearly distracted. Marco himself kept on texting Mats and Neven to keep them updated on the progress. Fortunately, the key group working on DNA analysis, Shinji, David, Erik, and Mesut, remained completely focused within their laboratories. 

 

At around 8 pm, Kehli finally spoke up, his voice much higher than usual, most likely because of all the caffeine he had consumed, “Maybe we should cool down a bit and call it a day. I don’t think we’ve really made a lot of progress today but …”

 

A high-pitched shriek came from Shinji and Mesut’s laboratory, “Bloody hell!”

 

“That’s Shinji!” İlkay cried at once and charged into the laboratory with the speed of light.

 

Inside the laboratory, Shinji was talking very fast next to the PCR gel on top of a piece of waxed paper, “... all the bands of the hair sample matched perfectly with the bands of Beatrix’s DNA sample. I know it’s not a hundred percent accurate and we probably need to wait for RFLP. Actually Erik suggested STR analysis, which is a great idea. It’s much faster than RFLP and more accurate. But anyway, this PCR result has got to be enough for a warrant!”

 

As soon as Shinji finished, Kehli started running out of the laboratory like a mad man while yelling, “Roman, Roman!”

 

“Well done!” İlkay patted Shinji on the back and Shiniji beamed at him. Ten minutes later, Kehli walked in with a piece of paper clutched in his hands, “And here’s the bloody warrant. Let’s take a night stroll shall we boys?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Case 1 should be done in the next chapter, which means I can go back to writing more about relationships. Hooray!
> 
> Also this is random but Lewy posted an INS picture of a gift he got from his fans. It's a book with signatures and pictures of his fans wearing his jersey. And my picture is on it!!! I literally screamed when I saw it at work, which scared quite a few people lol. Here's the link: https://instagram.com/p/5UqHnXGIvo/?taken-by=_rl9


	13. Case 1 - The Truth is Out, at Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Case 1. The pieces of the puzzle were put together and truth was out, at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally finished this! I can't believe how long it took me but I hope it's been enjoyable enough to read.

The one who answered the door at Guardiola’s townhouse was a middle-aged woman from South America. Kehli flashed his ID, “Dortmund Police, Crime Investigative Division. I’m Sebastian Kehl, Crime Section Inspector. Is there a Beatrix Guardiola living here?”

 

Before the housekeeper could say anything, a cold haughty voice came from inside the house, “Mr Kehl, what a pleasant surprise to find you at my house in such an unusual hour. Why we have just arrived from Munich. To what to do I owe this pleasure?” Beatrix was standing at the top of the spiralling staircases in her nightgown. As she walked downstairs calmly, she betrayed no sign of surprise nor fear. If Marco hadn’t known any better, he would think that Beatrix was walking downstairs in her cocktail dress to receive her guests for a dinner party.

 

“Mrs Beatrix Guardiola, you’re under arrest for the possible murder of Miss Gabriela Costa. Here’s the search warrant. Please come with us to the CID for further questioning.”

 

“What’s all this commotion? What on earth is going on?” Pep Guardiola came downstairs as well, looking thoroughly bewildered. Kehli nodded to the team and they scattered around to search the house. Marco, Olivier, and David stayed with Kehli to take Beatrix back to the CID. The last thing Marco saw before they left was the dumbfounded expression on Pep’s face as Mesut explained the situation to him.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Once they’re inside the interview room, Kehli started without further ado, “Mrs Guardiola, I think we all know why you’re here. You of course, have the right to remain silent. But we do have some questions for you. First of all, do you know the young man in this picture?”

 

Beatrix took a quick glance at the picture of Neymar and said in a contemptuous tone, “Of course I know about him. Neymar da Silva Santos, Gabriela’s Costa’s ex-boyfriend, the rebel and trouble-making young man. Do you really think I would not check everything about the woman that my husband is having an affair with?”

 

“Just as any loving wife would of course,” said Olivier sarcastically. “ After the initial check however, have you continued to keep tabs on him?”

 

“Of course I haven’t,” answered Beatrix with the same distaste in her voice. “Why should I? As soon as he left Dortmund, he’s of no use to me.”

 

“So would you say that you know nothing about his recent return to Dortmund then?” asked David quickly.

 

“As a matter of fact I do know that he has returned to Dortmund,” said Beatrix calmly. “Lena, our campaign manager, told me that she saw Gabriela and this Neymar together and asked me if we knew about them. Lena is the only other person who knows about Pep and Gabriela. Naturally I followed up on this and realised that Neymar had returned.”

 

“How did you feel about Neymar’s return?” pressed Marco. “What did you do after you learned about this?”

 

“I was naturally concerned that this may affect Pep’s campaign, which was why I requested to finally meet Gabriela in person. I have also tried my best to find out what Neymar was up to.”

 

“Including bugging Miss Costa’s mobile?” asked Olivier casually, as if they were discussing tomorrow’s weather. His eyes however, were focused on Beatrix’s face the whole time.

 

Beatrix’s face betrayed the slightest trace of surprise but she rearranged her expression so fast that Marco thought he might have imagined it. “So what if I did? I feel it was my duty to keep track of what they were up to. Since Neymar is a master at sneaking and hiding, my choices are quite limited.”

 

“What about your hair then?” asked David, pointing at Beatrix’s hair, “Light brown doesn’t suit you as well as silvery blonde does. The same shade looks much more appealing on Miss Costa, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“I did’t dye my hair to make myself more attractive. I did it because people will take you more seriously if you’re a brunette,” answered Beatrix without any hesitation. “And for the campaign, I need people to think I’m clever enough.”

 

“You certainly are Mrs Guardiola.” Marco couldn’t help the sarcasm in his voice. He looked at Kehli, who nodded at him. Marco dropped the bomb at Beatrix, “But Mrs Guardiola, we have found your hair in the bedroom of Miss Costa. Do you still claim that you have never met her before?”

 

Beatrix’s face did not change at all this time and her answer was not something they wanted to hear. “Of course I haven’t. You cannot prove that I have been inside her bedroom by a single hair. You do realise that my husband lives with me and spends a lot of time in Miss Costa bedroom, don’t you? The hair could have easily come from his jacket or trousers.”

 

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“This is a disaster!” yelled Olivier once they were outside the interview room. After two hours of non-stop questioning, they hadn’t got any useful information out of Beatrix. “This woman is a twisted evil witch! And she did have a bloody point! We can’t prove anything with what we have now! What a fucking nightmare!” Even though everyone was feeling frustrated, Olivier’s outburst still caught them by surprise. Marco had never seen him so agitated before. 

 

“Calm down Olivier,” said Kehli soothingly. “At least she didn’t have an alibi so the investigation is still on.”

 

David on the other hand, still seemed level-headed and calm. “Kehli, I don’t think the questioning is going anywhere. We have to find more evidence. I think I should go back to her house to help them with the search.” 

 

Kelhi nodded while massaging his temple, “I think you’re right David. You go ahead while we keep talking to her.”

 

The first to return from the search team was Joe. “The others are still at her place. I’ve brought back all the computers in the house, as well the network log of her house,” said Joe, as he was carefully balancing three laptops in his arms. “I need to go through them tonight.”

 

“I’ll help you if it’s okay,” said Alexis at once. Joe beamed at Alexis before turning to Kehli with puppy dog eyes. Olivier raised an eyebrow at Joe’s antics.

 

“Yes, of course. We’d love your help,” said Kehli. “Once you’ve managed to extract the files, pass them to Marco and Woj to analyse. Shinji can help once he’s done with the RFLP samples and STR analysis.”

 

So Marco started reading files after files from the computers with Woj. They were soon joined by Shinji, Olivier, and Kehli. By the time Mesut, İlkay, and David returned, they still hadn’t found anything.

 

“We haven’t found anything suspicious in her house either,” sighed Mesut, as İlkay plumped down onto the chair. “No weapon, no strange documents, nothing.”

 

“But I don’t understand,” cried Erik. “She must have done some research on how to make this murder work. If she didn’t use the computer at home, what did she use?”

 

“Her father’s computer?” asked Marco tentatively.

 

“No,” said David slowly, “that would be too obvious. We are bound to check that. She must have used something that cannot be traced back to her yet still accessible to her. But what can it be?” His voice trailed away and he was clearly lost in thought. 

 

Marco was about to ask but Joe made a shushing gesture. “David’s thinking and you don’t want to disturb him.” Joe said in a whisper. “But don’t worry, he will think of something. He always does.” There was ill-concealed pride in his voice when Joe said it. Both he and Mesut looked expectantly at David. Olivier, on the other hand, snorted and whispered sarcastically, “Perfect David.” Mesut tore his eyes from David and squeezed Olivier’s hand, which calmed Olivier down slightly.

 

“But of course!” David said suddenly, making them jump. “Look I don’t have time to explain but we need to go back to her house right now!”

 

Without a word, Mesut rose up from his seat and followed David. Erik and İlkay hesitated. “İlkay you go with them and do whatever David says,” said Kehli and İlkay left the room quickly. “Erik, I need you and Shinji to continue working on fingerprints analysis and DNA sampling. We need more evidence to crack Beatrix Guardiola.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

David and Mesut didn’t return until 9 am, by which time Marco and team had finished preliminary analysis of all the files from the computers. Everyone was feeling a bit flat since they hadn’t found any evidence yet. The expression on David’s face though was triumphant. “I knew it! I can’t be 100% certain but I think my guess is right!”

 

“Come on David,” whined Joe, “don’t keep us guessing. Spill!”

 

“Beatrix Guardiola must have done all her research in the library!” exclaimed David. “We found that she had a library card and we went to the library to check the record. She visited the library frequently during the course of four days about three weeks ago. We found her entering and leaving the library on the surveillance video footage. We’ve got the log files of all the computers in the library during those days. Joe and Alexis you should take a look. I don’t think she’s going to be stupid enough to use her account but guess what, her housekeeper’s son, Esteban Torres, has an account in the library too. Mrs Torres told us that her son never uses the library and she keeps the library card for him. So Beatrix can easily get the card. I bet that’s the account she used. I’d start with the deleted browser history.”

 

“So if we can find Esteban Torres using library computer to search for murder related information and prove that Esteban Torres had never been in the library at that time, we’ve got her!” said Marco excitedly. “You’re a genius David!” 

 

Joe smiled proudly at Marco, as if he were the one being praised. David rolled his eyes but the corner of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly when he looked at Joe. Mesut and Erik were looking at David with admiration in their eyes. To his surprise, Marco found that Olivier seemed to be sulking and he could not understand why. He made a mental note to figure out what had happened, possibly from Mesut.

 

Bolstered by this new discovery, they set to work again, even though they hadn’t slept for more than 24 hours. A feverish excitement was spreading in the CID, which alarmed even Roman when he happened to pass the main office and saw everyone with their eyes fixed on the computer screens. Luckily, they didn’t have to wait too long this time.

 

“I’ve found it!” exclaimed Olivier. “Look at this, ‘how to fake a murder’, and this. ‘drug overdose: what you need to know’.”

 

“I’ve found something too,” yelled İlkay 10 minutes later, “here’s ‘forensics 101: what does the police look for in a crime scene’, and ‘autopsy and crime investigation’.”

 

“We’ve found record of Esteban Torres’ card being swiped exactly when Beatrix entered the library. Also there was no image of Esteban Torres entering or leaving the library at that time.” Marco also joined in and he could see excitement on everyone’s face.

 

“This is unbelievable!” cried Kehli, “We did it! This’s got to be enough for the jury. Marco, do you think Mats can be our prosecutor?”

 

“Of course he will. If he doesn’t, I’ll make him,” said Marco confidently, knowing that Mats would rather spend a whole week with Sergio than turn down a case like this.

 

Sure enough, Marco found Mats in the CID two hours later talking to Kehli. “I told you Kehli, Mats couldn’t resist a case like this,” said Marco teasingly as he winked at both of them. Mats rolled his eyes in a most un-Mats-ish way. “I’m about to interview Mrs Guardiola and her lawyer. I’ve scanned through all the materials you have so far and believe me, if we don’t win, I’ll be a Schalke fan for a year.”

 

Marco laughed, “Well that’s certainly reassuring. We’ll wait for the good news then. Oh Mats, this is Woj.”

 

Woj had just walked into the room, humming to himself. His eyes twinkled when he saw Mats and the handshake between them was slightly longer than necessary. Mats cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, “Right, I better head off to work then. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Woj.”

 

“You too handsome,” smirked Woj. Mats gave them a fake smile before hurrying away to interview Beatrix Guardiola. Marco looked at Woj in disbelief, “Woj, do you swing that way as well? Mats’ got a girlfriend. He’s off limits.”

 

“What?” Woj seemed genuinely surprised at the question. “Oh no. I have a girlfriend too, Marina, and I love her to bits. But your friend Mats is so fit and I just like looking at beautiful things. I suppose I was acting a little inappropriately there.” His voice trailed off and he looked somewhat abashed. 

 

Marco snorted, “Seriously, Mats must think you just hit on him and trust me, he’ll avoid you like the plague next time.” 

 

“Damn it,” cursed Woj. “I know I was spending too much time with Olivier! Anyway,” his tone changed from annoyed to suggestive, “when you said ‘swing that way as well’, do you mean that you swing that way?” Then, ignoring Marco’s spluttering, Woj continued, “Don’t worry. I think I know just the perfect lad for you.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The rest of the week passed quickly. Almost everyone was in a good mood, as they had solved the case and were just doing some follow-up work. The pathology results came back, confirming that Miss Costa did die from cocaine overdose. Erik managed to find the touch DNA evidence of Beatrix in Miss Costa’s bedroom. “Her arm must have touched Miss Costa’s nightstand when she was cleaning the place. She might also be sweating, which tend to leave more DNA behind,” said David knowledgeably. All of the preliminary PCR results were verified by either RFLP or STR. Even though they didn’t find any fingerprints that belonged to Beatrix in Miss Costa’s flat, Marco felt that they had enough evidence and a convincing enough story to persuade the jury. If anything, thought Marco, most of the female members of the jury would have a fainting fit when Mats smiled at them. Maybe he should tell Mats to shed some tears in front the jury. They’d have this case in a bag.

 

The only two not ready to join in the festive mood were Erik and Olivier. At first, Marco thought it was because of the exhaustion from all their hard work the week before. He himself was feeling the effect of it and fell asleep halfway through a phone call with Mario, leaving Mario to scream at him for a good half hour before Marco could even apologise. But as the week went on and they all caught up on the sleep, the sour mood of the two did not improve. 

 

Erik was spending more and more time in the office, working with a maniacally devotion even though it wasn’t strictly necessary. In fact, he was working so hard that it was quite unnerving. Marco heard from İlkay, the gossip king of the department, that Kehli had to force Erik out of the laboratory at 3 am once. Marco was getting seriously worried and somehow he had a shrewd idea why Erik was acting like that. 

 

Olivier, on the other hand, was projecting his grumpiness in a completely different way. He was louder and more obnoxious than usual.Every time Marco bumped into Olivier, in the hallway, in the canteen, or walking to the car park, he could always found Olivier laughing loudly or flirting with someone, sometimes that someone being Marco himself. Olivier also seemed to be spending less and less time with Mesut, who was apparently bewildered and hurt by this change of attitude. But Mesut bore this with great dignity and did not let their relationship issues affect the work. Marco did find Mesut spending more time with David and Joe though, which seemed to aggravate Olivier even further. Everyone else, even Shinji (though Marco suspected that it was because İlkay had told him), seemed to realise that something was wrong. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The first hearing for the case was scheduled a week later, by which time all the police reports were done. Everyone involved in the case attended the hearing. On the defendant side, Pep, who looked like he had aged 10 years in the past two weeks, accompanied his wife to the hearing. Mats’ opening speech was eloquent and moving. He then proceeded to present the motives and evidence in an impeccable way. Marco could tell that the jury members were persuaded by Mats and at the end of the hearing, they were all confident that justice would be done. What they didn’t expect was the press outside the court when the hearing was over.

 

“Mr Guardiola, what do you have to say about the murder?”

 

“Mr Guardiola, why did you marry Mrs Guardiola if you don’t love her at all?”

 

“Mr Guardiola, have you used profit from the drug money to fund your campaign?”

 

“I’m afraid his political career is over,” said David solemnly as they watched Pep Guardiola dodge the speakers from reporters while trying to shield his wife from the cameras. “It’s really unfortunate for him. He really is a decent guy who can make a difference.”

 

“I know,” sighed Kehli. “Now José has that election in a bag. Another 4 years with him huh?” 

 

None of them said anything. David seemed lost in thought again and was interrupted by Kehli, “Anyway, we have done all we can and we have solved the case. It’s quite an achievement, isn’t it? I think this calls for a celebration. How about we throw a party at my place? You can bring friends, guests. I’ll invite people from the department as well. It will also be your late welcome party.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next couple chapters will be relationship oriented. I want to give the characters (and myself) a break before starting the next case. Next couple weeks will be crazy for me work-wise so I may not be able to update during the week. But I'll try to update during the weekend.


	14. Kissed by the Devil, Almost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kehli threw a party to celebrate the end of Case 1. Erik and Neven needed to work out their problems. Woj brought a guest to the party who seemed quite interested in Marco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Marco has met Lewy! Can't believe it took me so long to get to this point lol.

True to his words, Kehli texted everyone on Friday that he would be hosting a party at his place Saturday night. Marco was quite glad for the occasion. He had been to several of Kehli’s parties before and they had all been hugely entertaining, mostly thanks to İlkay and Roman. So he texted Mats, Neven, and Mario, since he would be playing Schalke this weekend and might be able to make it to the party after the game. 

 

When Marco arrived at Kehli’s at 8 pm, the party had barely started. Kehli’s wife, Tina, greeted Marco cheerfully, “Seb has just popped out to get more food. İlkay and Shinji are in the living room playing FIFA. Erik has just arrived. He’s such a delightful young man.”

 

Erik however, still looked gloomy. Marco figured that now was a finally good time to ask him what had happened. Before he could ask though, more people had arrived and the place was getting more and more crowded. Marcel had turned up with Jenny and André Schürrle, a fellow patrol officer and Wolfsburg fan. David showed up with two bottles of Spanish wine and some homemade paella, which won him the favour of Tina instantly. Joe, Alexis, and Mesut arrived with David while Olivier was nowhere to be seen. Marco sighed. There was definitely something going on between Mesut and Olivier. 

 

The arrival of Neven, Mats, and most importantly Mario, caused quite a disturbance. Erik, who had been sulking since his arrival, rose up excitedly from his seat and walked over to them. Finally, Marco thought to himself, Erik was about to talk to Neven and sort things out. But to his amazement, Erik walked past Neven and Mats without even a sideway glance and went straight for Mario. Mats instantly turned to look at Neven, whose face was hard to read. But Marco could tell from his body language that Neven wasn’t happy.

 

“Bollocks!” Marco muttered to himself and got up from his seat too, ready to rescue the situation. On his way there, he was momentarily interrupted by David.

 

“What’s the matter with those two?” ask David, who was standing next to , not Joe, but Mesut. Marco looked around and found Joe talking animatedly to Alexis. Olivier had just arrived and was shooting daggers at their general direction. Shaking his head, Marco decided to address the more urgent problem.

 

“I have no clue what happened to them but I need to intervene there before things get completely out of hand.” Marco grabbed Marcel, who was walking by, by the elbow. “Marcel could you introduce David and company to the other officers?”

 

By the time Marco managed to squeeze past the crowd, successfully dodging a flying football thrown by İlkay, Neven and Mats had already disappeared. Cursing, Marco stopped briefly to listen to the conversation between Erik, Mario, and Kehli. 

 

“... said you were the best they had ever seen. I used to go watch your training when you were in Dortmund. I had almost cried my heart out when you transferred to Bayern but I’m still a fan of yours.” Erik was talking in a dreamy voice with stars in his eyes. Marco was hoping sincerely that Neven hadn’t seen this.

 

Mario, on the other hand, looked rather distant. “Thank you for your support. It was a difficult decision for me to make but I do not regret it,” said Mario with a cool tone. Marco thought he could guess why Mario was behaving like this. They were after all, best friends and it wasn’t hard for Mario to pick Neven’s side. Not wanting to upset Erik without knowing what had really happened, Marco gave Kehli a significant look, who thankfully got it and said, “Come on Mario, you broke our hearts when you left Dortmund. I know you’ve made it up to Marco, Mats, and Neven but what about us?”

 

Mario laughed, “Blimey, how many people do I owe and how much do I have to pay for this?”

 

“Hmm,” said Roman, who had appeared out of nowhere, “let’s say 20 prime tickets every season when Bayern plays Dortmund in Westfalenstadion? It’s got to be enough for the whole CID. By the way, can somebody please stop İlkay before he demolishes the whole house?”

 

Glad that someone was there to mediate the situation, Marco had decided to leave this crowd to find Neven and Mats. Before he left, he gave Mario a look that clearly said, be nice. Mario shrugged and nodded reluctantly. Satisfied, Marco turned his back on them to leave but stopped on his track.

 

The man who had just walked through the door behind Woj was the most intriguing bloke Marco had ever seen. He was tall and handsome. But Marco was more than used to handsome chaps around him. This man was different. When his striking blue eyes locked with Marco’s, he gave Marco an enigmatic smile and winked. Marco felt his heart pounding very fast. He could tell that this man was someone with a lot of stories. Before Marco could dwell on the thought any further, Woj dragged the man towards him.

 

“Hey Marco, come and meet my friend, the one I’ve mentioned to you, Robert Lewandowski. Or for anyone who knows him, Lewy,” said Woj cheerfully and he gave Marco a quick wink.

 

“Hello,” said Lewy, extending his hand to Marco, “It’s really nice to meet you. You must be Marco Reus. Woj has told me a lot about you lads.”

 

Marco shook Lewy’s hand, feeling the firm grip, and smiled, “Yeah I’m Marco Reus. Pleased to meet you Lewy.”

 

“Excellent,” said Woj. “Now that you know each other, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll go find Olivier.”

 

“So,” Marco let of Lewy’s hand, trying to ignore the suggestive looks Woj was giving him, “how long have you known Woj?”

 

“I’ve known him since we were children. We grew up in Warsaw together.” Ah, thought Marco, that explained his faint accent. “I’m several years older so I left Warsaw first for university in Dortmund before Woj went to London for university. We still kept in touch and always spend the holidays together if possible.”

 

“You must be excited when he decided to move to Dortmund,” asked Marco.

 

“Oh yes, I was more than happy. I used to travel to London for work so we could meet up then. But it’s not the same as having your best mate in the same city with you, is it?” said Lewy and he leaned a tad closer to Marco. Marco felt his cheeks grow hot under the intense gaze of those beautiful blue eyes. He cleared his throat to compose himself.

 

“So what do you do for work Lewy?”

 

“I’m a senior consultant for a big financial services firm. Our headquarter is in London and so are some of our big clients. So I used to go there all the time. My work requires me to travel quite often. But I always try to find balance between work and er personal life,” said Lewy with his eyes fixed on Marco. “I had always believed that there is nothing more important than that special someone in your life.” 

 

“Er,” stuttered Marco, “are you seeing someone then?”

 

Lewy smiled, “Unfortunately no. I’m rather selective when it comes to that special someone. So far, I haven’t met my Mr Right yet.”

 

“Right,” Marco swallowed nervously. “Er, I better go find my friends. They, um, might need my help you know.” He then left at top speed, nearly crashing into Neven.

 

“Whoa Marco, what’s the matter with you? Is someone after you?”

 

“What?” said Marco distractedly. As he looked back, he could see Lewy standing half way across the room, holding a drink and still looking at him. Marco shook his head. He had got more important things to sort out tonight. “I’m fine. But I could ask you the same question Nev. What on earth is going on between you and Erik?”

 

Neven was silent for a while and Marco waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts. “Okay, so you’ve probably noticed that Erik and I have some sort of issues. I’m not sure how many other people have figured it out but…”

 

Marco snorted, “Come on Nev. Airborne bacteria could have figured it out. So what sort of issues do you have?”

 

“Well, you remember the whole fiasco with the sleep talking thing?”

 

“How could I forget? It’s brilliant,” sniggered Marco. “You couldn’t imagine Mario’s reaction when I told him that.”

 

“Yeah well whatever,” said Neven quickly. “The point is, Erik wasn’t happy about it.”

 

Marco shrugged, “So? I mean he might be a bit cross but it’s no big deal.”

 

“It’s no big deal to you. But Erik was actually pretty angry about it,” sighed Neven. “We had a row afterwards because of this.”

 

Marco was speechless, “What? Why?”

 

“He said that it made him look really stupid and unreliable,” said Neven. “He said that people might doubt his ability to remain discreet about the cases he’s working on.”

 

“But that’s absurd,” cried Marco. “Nobody is going to think any less of him because he accidentally let something slip in his sleep. It could happen to anyone. Besides, he’s new so…”

 

“Exactly!” interrupted Neven. “You see his problem here. He’s been trying to make a good impression because he’s new and he thinks I’ve messed it up.”

 

“What? Just because of this?”

 

“Look,” said Neven patiently, “Erik is very ambitious. He has big plans for his future. We’ve talked about it and he’s very serious. He said that I’m not taking him seriously because if I did, I wouldn’t have said it, you know, the whole sleep talking thing, without talking to him about it first.”

 

Marco blinked, “How do you feel about it then?”

 

“Well, it’s complicated,” sighed Neven. “On one hand I do feel bad for saying it without consulting Erik first. On the other hand, I’m beginning to think that maybe I’ve rushed into this relationship. Don’t get me wrong. I’m very attracted to Erik and we have a lot in common. But you know what I’m like. I just don’t know if it’s going to work between us if he’s so ambitious while I’m so laid back. Well, that’s what I told him and he seemed more pissed off after that.”

 

Marco didn’t know what to say. He knew what Neven was thinking. Erik reminded Neven of Mats and he wasn’t sure if their personality would match. But Marco had never seen Neven this happy for a very long time and he had really hoped that it would work out between Erik and Neven. So he asked the critical question, “Do you love him Neven?”

 

Neven thought for a moment before answering, “Normally I would say it’s too early to tell. But with Erik, things are different. I don’t know. I suppose,” he hesitated, “I suppose my heart is telling me that I do love him.”

 

“Then you should tell him that.” Mats voice made both Marco and Neven jump. “I’ve just talked to Erik. He’s mad at you mostly because you went straight for me after you realised that your patient was involved in the case without telling him a thing. You have to admit that you didn’t handle the situation very tactfully Neven.”

 

Neven threw his hands up, “It was a bloody murder case. I only wanted to help him. Besides,” he looked a little embarrassed, “I sort of wanted to surprise him so I didn’t want to let him know before I knew for sure my involvement would help.”

 

“But you didn’t tell him that, did you?” said Mats softly. “He thought you are still not over me.”

 

“But he totally overreacted,” cried Neven. “Okay maybe I should have handled the situation better but is it really worth going nuts about it?”

 

“Erik admitted that he had overreacted a bit,” said Mats calmly. “He was under a lot of stress. It was his first job and this was a major case. You know how much he cared about it and it’s understandable that he might take it a little too seriously. Listen to me Neven, Erik is not like me. He has not known you for more than 10 years. He’s young, passionate, and inexperienced. You cannot expect things to work between you like magic. You will have your differences and you’ll fight. But it doesn’t mean you’re not right for each other. The only way to make this work is patience and communication. Otherwise you’ll both be miserable like you’re now. Now go talk to him. And bring me a drink when you’re done. I deserve that for all of my help.”

 

Neven looked at Mats with such emotions in his eyes and Mats held his gaze with a faint smile. Marco’s eyes darted from one to the other, feeling thoroughly confused and conflicted. Neven stood up from his seats and hugged Mats tightly, muttering, “Thanks a lot mate.” before leaving to find Erik. Mats sat down next to Marco.

 

“Well, that was one thing settled,” said Mats airily. “Glad it didn’t take too long.”

 

“Is there anyone you can’t convince?” asked Marco, half joking half serious. Mats looked quite pleased with himself, “part of my job training I suppose.”

 

“Speaking of your job,” asked Marco, suddenly remembering something, “are you still working on the divorce case of Mrs Abramovich?”

 

Mats shook his head, “Roman Abramovich had finally come to his senses and decided not to harass Irina. It’s a pity really. I was looking forward to meeting him in court.”

 

“What made him change his mind?”

 

Marco shrugged, “Search me. I reckon he had finally realised that he couldn’t get anything out of it so he just gave up.”

 

“So this Irina must be extremely grateful for your help then,” Marco smiled suggestively. “Has she expressed her gratitude towards you in any way?”

 

“Oh for heaven’s sake Marco,” snapped Mats, “Irina has a boyfriend. Our relationship is strictly professional. But speaking of boyfriend, what’s with you and the handsome Polish?”

 

“Wh, what?” stammered Marco.

 

“Oh come on Marco,” laughed Mats, “we all saw the looks he’s been giving you. He looks like he could eat you up. And let’s be honest, he’s quite fit. I mean look at those blues eyes.”

 

“Yeah but blue eyes are you type remember?” retorted Marco, “I prefer brown ones.”

 

Mats looked at Marco with a smirk on his face, “Suit yourself. I think you should at least talk to him, this Lewy. He looks like a fun chap.”

 

Marco shrugged. He couldn’t deny that this Lewy bloke intrigued him but he also felt a little apprehensive about approaching him. Besides, Marco felt too preoccupied with his friends’ problems tonight to think about his personal life. Having made up his mind, Marco went to search for Olivier. He figured that if he could sort Olivier out, the problem between Mesut and him would be fixed. 

 

Olivier, it turned out, was talking to Woj and Lewy. Marco hesitated, not sure if he wanted to talk to all three of them. But the decision was made for him when Woj spotted him and yelled, “Hey Marco, we were just talking about you.” Resigned to his fate, Marco moved over and said, “Hey lads, what about me?”

 

“I was telling them that you know Mario Götze,” said Olivier, downing his drink in one gulp, “Lewy here couldn’t believe it.”

 

“Really?” Marco fired up at once, “What is so hard to believe? Me being friend with a famous footballer or Mario being friend with a common fella like me?” 

 

Lewy didn’t seem at all fazed by Marco’s aggressive attitude. Instead he smiled good-naturedly and said, “Neither Marco. I was just impressed that you have known Mario for such a long time. Friends from childhood are usually the most precious, wouldn’t you say Woj?”

 

“Oh,” mumbled Marco, feeling a little sheepish, “I’m sorry but I think I may have overreacted a bit there.”

 

Lewy laughed, “You can say that again Marco. It’s okay though. I like how you try to defend your friends. But tell me Marco, do you like playing football?”

 

The conversation flowed much smoother from that point on. Lewy, as it transpired, was an easy-going and interesting chap. He enjoyed football too and actually played as a striker in his spare time.

 

“Would you like to join our team then?” asked Marco eagerly. “We’ve got a team that plays against fellas from police departments of other cities. We can do with a decent striker. André prefers playing on the left wing.”

 

“That would be lovely,” said Lewy happily and he was leaning closer and closer to Marco. “And let me tell you, I’m a brilliant striker, and not just in football.” Lewy winked at Marco, who was left speechless. Lewy’s face was so close that Marco could see the perfect eyelashes and the deep blue eyes that totally hypnotised him. Before he could bring himself out of the trance, Marco heard someone’s voice, awfully familiar but strangely distant, “Oi, what are you doing here?”

 

The trance was broken and Marco was startled to find Lewy’s lips inches from his. He took a step back and saw Mario and Mats standing next to Lewy. Mario was scowling while Mats seemed to find the whole situation rather amusing. 

 

“I’m sorry,” said Lewy politely, still perfectly composed, “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. My name is Robert Lewandowski, or Lewy if you prefer. You’re Mario Götze of course. Marco was just talking to us about you.”

 

Mario puffed up his chest and tried to look as tall as possible, even though he had little success in that. He put one protective arm around Marco’s shoulder, then on second thought, dropped it to Marco’s arm to accommodate their height difference. Marco couldn’t help but smile fondly at Mario. “Yes, Marco has been my best mate since we were children. He’s the best lad in the world and deserves the best.”

 

“Mario,” hissed Marco, feeling embarrassed. Mario ignored him and continued, “Marco’s got loads of friends who would never forgive anyone who might hurt him. Now, who are you anyway?”

 

Mats couldn’t help but laugh, “Come on Mario, Marco is not a shy virgin that needs his knight with shining armour to defend his honour.”

 

Marco gagged on his beer at Mats’ words while Lewy and Woj roared with laughter. Mario at least had the sense to look a little abashed. “I know. It’s just Marco hasn’t been laid for so long and I’m worried that he would jump at the first available bloke without thinking.” The laughter continued and Marco had had enough. “Can I have a word with you now Olivier?” Then without waiting for a reply,he grabbed Olivier by the arm, “Will you excuse us?” and dragged Olivier away without looking at the others.

 

Once they were in a secluded corner of the room, Marco turned to Olivier, who was still chortling, and asked “So what’s up with you and Mesut?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the missed update. Work has been crazy this past week and will be even more so next week... I'll be travelling for work next week so I highly doubt I can update mid week in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere. Oh well. 
> 
> And sorry for everyone who's been waiting for Mesut and Olivier to make up. I haven't got room to fit them into this chapter. But don't worry, their problems will be sorted out in the next chapter :)


	15. Snogging and Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sneak peek into Mesut and Olivier's history. 
> 
> Mesut and Olivier solved their problems by snogging. Marco was still undecided about Lewy. Mario was being the best mate.

Olivier gave Marco a long look before giving in, “So you can see that something is wrong between us.”

 

“This is the second time someone said something like this to me tonight,” said Marco exasperatedly, “I swear. I may not be the gossip queen like İlkay but I’m not completely clueless you know. Of course I can tell.”

 

“Fine, fine,” Olivier raised his hands in surrender, “just checking. Anyway, yeah, Mesut and I had a, well not a fight exactly. I suppose I have just been sulking and Mesut didn’t even know why. Okay now saying this out loud makes me sound like a complete wanker.”

 

Marco raised an eyebrow, “So you’re not normally?”

 

“Of course not!” cried Olivier indignantly, ignoring the smirk on Marco’s face, “And I mean both literally and figuratively speaking.”

 

“Okay I get that,” laughed Marco, “but please don’t go into more details on that topic. I don’t want to be permanently traumatised. But honestly,” his toned had become more serious now, “why have you been sulking for the past couple weeks. It just came out of nowhere and nobody knew why.”

 

Olivier sighed, “I reckon you don’t know that Mesut used to fancy David, do you?”

 

Most unfortunately, Marco was in the process of swallowing a large mouthful of beer. He spluttered his beer, half of which landed on Olivier’s nice shirt, and coughed violently.

 

“Eurgh, Marco,” cried Olivier, “what the hell?”

 

“You made me do it,” said Marco grumpily, still coughing slightly. “Next time you’re about to drop something like this, give me a fair warning.”

 

“Fine,” said Olivier, half smiling half irritated, “Anyway, when Mesut first joined the London Police, he was like David’s shadow. He followed David everywhere. At that time David hadn’t got together with Joe so he and Mesut were like best mates. Also if you think Mesut is shy now, you have no idea what he was like back then. He could hardly talk to anyone without blushing but when he was with David, he was totally at ease, laughing and joking the whole time.”

 

“So?” asked Marco, “Mesut and David are similar in many ways. Of course they’d get along. Actually, how does Joe feel about this?”

 

“Joe?” Olivier snorted, “Come on. You know Joe. He’s got the emotional range of an affectionate dog. Don’t get me wrong. He’s clever and all that. But when it comes to emotions and feelings, Joe’s world is blessedly simple. No finesse, no subtlety, nothing. I mean look at all the rubbish he’s talking.”

 

“You say that sort of rubbish too.” Marco pointed fairly.

 

“Yeah but it’s different for me, isn’t it?” said Olivier, “I say those things to lighten up the mood. It’s a conscious decision. And I know they’re rubbish. But Joe, bless him, doesn’t even realise that he’s saying rubbish that’s making David uncomfortable. I don’t know how David stands him sometimes. But on the other hand, if Joe loves someone, he loves him with all his heart and he trusts him completely. Look at how he treats David. So no, Joe doesn’t feel uncomfortable about David and Mesut at all.”

 

“That’s precisely why I love him.” David’s quiet voice made both Olivier and Marco start.

 

“David,” cried Olivier, “how long have you… Hang on, why isn’t Joe with you?”

 

“I’ve heard enough,” said David calmly. “As for Joe, he’s talking to Alexis about quantum algorithm in cryptanalysis, or something like that. I think it’s better for me to leave them if I want to keep my sanity.”

 

“How come you don’t mind, you know, Joe and Alexis?” asked Olivier curiously, “I mean I’ve never seen Joe so crazy about anyone. Not even you.”

 

David turned to look at Joe, who was waving his long arms like a windmill while talking excitedly to Alexis, and smiled fondly. “I don’t mind Joe’s antics around Alexis because I know him. He’s not crazy about Alexis. He’s crazy about Alexis’ knowledge in computer science. Alexis is like a legend in that area, a total genius and prodigy that everyone in the field knows about. Joe may seem like a daft idiot when he’s not talking about computer, but he has always known exactly what he wants. Work-wise, it’s his passion about computer. Life-wise, it’s me.”

 

Both Olivier and Marco stared at David. “You know,” said Olivier thoughtfully, “this is the boldest thing I’ve ever heard from you.”

 

David laughed, “Am I not allowed to be proud of my boyfriend? But seriously, I mean what I’ve said. Joe and I are perfect for each other. I’m way too serious and pessimistic most of the time. I over-analyse things all the time and I’m a compulsive perfectionist. You wonder how I can stand Joe? Well, sometimes I wonder if there’s anyone other than Joe who can stand me.Lucky for me, I’ve got Joe, who is the exact opposite of me. He’s a happy carefree chap who doesn’t worry about anything. We complement each other so well, just like you and Mesut.”

 

“But Mesut had a big crush on you,” said Olivier with a pained expression. “You are the one he fell for when he first joined us, not me.”

 

“Come on Olivier,” cried Marco, “you can’t hold on to the past forever! You’re the one with Mesut now and he loves you. Anyone with eyes can see it.”

 

“Precisely,” agreed David, “I’ve never seen Mesut so happy before. He has changed so much after he started going out with you. He’s more outgoing, happier, and more comfortable with himself. It’s all thanks to you Olivier. You helped him open up his shell, something I’ve never managed. Mesut has also changed you. If you find Olivier annoying now,” David turned to Marco with a smile, “you should see him when he first joined the London police. I swear I’ve never met anyone more insufferable before. Even Joe can’t stand you sometimes. Mesut has made you a better person. ”

 

“I know that and I know it’s stupid for me to doubt him but I just can’t help myself,” said Olivier miserably, burying his face in his hands, “Not when he was giving you those admiring looks.”

 

“Are you quite sure that Mesut liked me like that?” asked David seriously, “Maybe you’re just mistaking our close friendship for attraction. I mean Mesut had never…”

 

“He told me,” said Olivier flatly. “He was heartbroken after you and Joe got together so he came to me for some advice. I had always fancied him and I couldn’t help but, you know, make a move on him. He was surprised at first but agreed to try it out with me. I suppose that’s why I sort of lost it when I saw Joe swooning over Alexis. I’m scared that Joe might take off with Alexis, which would leave you single and available. You see, I’ve always wondered if I’m just a rebound for Mesut while he actually loves you all this time.”

 

“And that makes you the biggest git in the world,” said an angry voice.

 

They all whirled around. An infuriated Mesut was standing in front of them, his hands on his hips, his face deeply flushed from anger.

 

“Mesut my dear,” said Olivier in a fake airy tone. But he was interrupted by Mesut’s outburst. 

 

“I have been with you for three bloody years and you think you’re just a rebound?! Are you so blind and thick that you can’t see that I’m totally and utterly in love with you?” Mesut was shouting so loudly that his voice raised over the din of the party, the majority of which was caused by İlkay. The whole room fell silent and everyone was gaping at Mesut, who was red in the face with his fists clenched tightly as if he was ready to attack Olivier at any moment. Marco looked around helplessly, hoping that someone could step up to calm Mesut down. But no one seemed brave enough to face an incensed Mesut who bore a shocking resemblance to a sabre-toothed tiger.

 

Olivier tried to speak in the most calming way he could manage, “Please Mesut, I’ve never said…” But Mesut ignored him completely and continued with his shouting, “What is wrong with you Olivier? Do you have no faith in me or do you not know me at all? Three fucking years Olivier! You are the biggest, thickest…”

 

“Mesut,” tried David, “please calm…”

 

“I will not calm down!” screamed Mesut. Never before had they seen the normally calm and shy Mesut lose control like this. Before he could utter another word though, Olivier grabbed Mesut by the waist and started snogging him. Marco felt his jaw hitting the floor. Mesut was struggling against the kiss at first, making it look like a stand-up wrestling match. Olivier however, persisted valiantly. Finally, Mesut relented and started kissing Olivier back with equal fervour.

 

“Well,” came Neven’s drawling voice, “like I said, there’s nothing you can’t solve with a good snog.” Erik was standing next to Neven, their hands entwined with each other’s. His eyes were bright and slightly watery, his normally carefully gelled hair completely tousled. What was even more telling was his red swollen lips.

 

Marco eyed Neven shrewdly, “Is this how you solved your problem with Erik? I can see that you’ve been busy.”

 

Neven gave him an amused look while Erik was trying his best to look composed. “Nev and I have made up yes. But enough of us, Marco. What about you? Mats told us that you’ve caught the eye of a particularly fit Pole.”

 

Marco raised his hands in exasperation, “Why does everyone know about this? And why is everyone trying to set me up with him? I don’t even know if I like him.”

 

“Not everyone,” Erik corrected Marco with a snigger, “consider yourself lucky that İlkay doesn’t know. If İlkay knows, the whole world knows.”

 

“Don’t worry mate,” said Neven soothingly, “knowing someone takes time and this Lewy is definitely no simple lad. I like him though. I’ve chatted with him and find him quite charming.”

 

“Are you sure about your judgment?” asked Marco sarcastically, “After your snogging session with Erik, I’m not sure which part of your body was doing the thinking at that time.”

 

Neven let out a theatrical cry, “Oh Erik, look at our little Marco, so tetchy. You know what? You just need a good shag. Look at Olivier and Mesut. A minute ago Mesut was ready to rip Olivier’s throat open and now they are at each other’s throat in a completely different way.”

 

They all turned to look at Mesut and Olivier and found that Neven was quite right. They were still kissing as if their lives depended on it. One of Mesut’s hands was in Olivier’s hair while the other was caressing Olivier’s face. Olivier was even more enthusiastic, as his hands were inside Mesut’s shirt, feeling Mesut up with abandon. As his hand made its way to Mesut’s trousers, Marco had to intervene. “For Christ’s sake Olivier, there are people around! Just go and find a room, will you?”

 

Olivier grinned toothily at Marco, “Not jealous that someone else is getting some, are you?”

 

Before Marco could snap back, Mesut who was blushing beet red grabbed Olivier’s hand and dragged him away. Neven looked at their retreating back thoughtfully and said, “You know what Erik. I think we should follow their example and find ourselves a nice room.”

 

Erik nodded fervently and they left after bidding Marco a hasty goodbye. Marco sighed. He figured that he should probably go find Mats and Mario and spend the rest of the night playing FIFA with them. 

 

“Scotch?”

 

Marco looked around. Lewy was standing right behind him with two glasses of Kehli’s finest scotch. Marco hesitated for a second before accepting the offer. 

 

“So, your mission is complete tonight,” said Lewy conversationally, “Well done. Your friends seem much happier now.”

 

Marco smiled, “Yeah I’m definitely relieved. I hate to see them fight with each other over some silly things. They’re perfect for each other.”

 

“I agree,” nodded Lewy, “But,” his tone changed subtly, “what about you? Who’s your perfect bloke?”

 

Marco felt a little uneasy. He had never felt truly comfortable talking about his feelings in front of strangers. Sensing his discomfort, Lewy raised an eyebrow, “I don’t believe it. A hottie like you cannot be single!”

 

“Well, I am,” said Marco. Desperate to change the subject, he quickly asked, “But tell me Lewy. you must have travelled a lot for work. What’s your favourite place in the world?”

 

Lewy gave him a knowing smirk but answered the question anyway, “I’ve always liked Andalusia. Sevilla and Granada are two of my favourite cities in the world, other than Warsaw.”

 

“I’ve never been to Sevilla nor Granada!” cried Marco excitedly, now genuinely interested in the conversation. “Why do you like them so much?”

 

“For Granada, the reason is simple, Alhambra. You’ve heard of it I presume.” Marco nodded eagerly. “Well, let me tell you, all the compliments do not do it justice. The architecture is simply exquisite and divine. And of course, if you’re interested in history…”

 

“I am!” said Marco even more excitedly.

 

“Excellent,” smiled Lewy, “another thing we have in common I see. So you can see why Alhambra has a special place in my heart. As for Sevilla, the city has such character. Just walk along the streets to see the architecture and palm trees, to listen to the flamenco music, to breath in the romantic air. It’s a city that will get you drunk with her charm. But then of course, there are those Sevillanos. So spirited and sensual. Their life is full of fire and passion. If you go there, you better be careful,” Lewy’s smile became more seductive, “they can eat you up in no time.”

 

Marco felt his face heat up under the intense gaze of Lewy’s blue eyes. He did his best to ignore Lewy’s last comment, “So those two are your two favourites other than Warsaw. Tell me more about your home.”

 

“Oh my home,” Lewy’s expression changed immediately. The flirty smile was replaced with a look of extreme fondness and pride. “It’s the most beautiful place in all creation! I dream about it every day and night. Even though I’ve left home for such a long time, I can still remember all her beauty so clearly that when I close my eyes, I see the great vast forests, the majestic mountains, and the beautiful exotic sand dunes.” Marco found himself hypnotised again by Lewy’s soft voice. He could feel Lewy’s emotion and he felt as if he was seeing Poland through Lewy’s words. And it was indeed the most beautiful place in the world. He was still in a trance after Lewy finished and then he felt Lewy’s soft lips on his.

 

Before he could decide what to do about the situation, Marco felt a strong force yanking him away from Lewy. It was so strong that Marco stumbled back, almost crashing into a nearby table. Clutching onto a lamp for dear life, it took Marco several seconds to regain his balance. When he looked up though, the scene in front of eyes almost made him trip again.

 

Mario was yelling and punching every inch of Lewy he could reach. It was hard to tell what he was shouting but Marco thought he heard words like “how dare”, “Marco”, “force”. Lewy was merely shielding himself and dodging the punch, which Marco was deeply thankful for. He had no doubt that Lewy, who was much bigger and stronger, could punch Mario into a pulp with just a couple blows. Unfortunately, Mario had shown no sign of stopping and Marco had to intervene. He rushed forward to grab Mario by the waist, hoping to pull him away from Lewy, but failed miserably. Marco looked around desperately for help and almost had a fainting fit.

 

A crowd had gathered around the scene but none seemed particularly concerned about the situation. İlkay was shouting and waving his fists enthusiastically, “Go Mario Go! Punch him in the stomach! Come on Lewy! Fight back you idiot!”

 

“Which side are you on exactly?” asked Shinji, looking mildly interested.

 

“Does it matter?” shrugged İlkay, “I just want to see a good fight.”

 

Marcel and André both looked dumbfounded and utterly speechless. In fact, they both resembled two strangely carved statues had it not been for the rise and fall of their chests. Woj didn’t seem too worried about his friend either. Instead of coming to Lewy’s rescue, he was actually filming the fight with his mobile. Neven, who had reappeared with Erik, was laughing so hard that he buried his head in the crook of Erik’s neck. Marco had had enough.

 

“It’s so nice of you to step out mid shag Nev. But since you’re here, stop laughing and do something! And where the hell is Mats when you need him?”

 

Neven was still chortling, “You have to admit it was pretty funny. Mario had to jump to reach Lewy’s head.” Before Marco lost it completely and started punching Neven, Erik nudged Neven on the rib and pushed him towards Marco. Marco made a mental note to get Erik Mario’s autograph. 

 

Neven went behind Mario, grabbed him by the armpit, and lifted him up so easily as if Mario weighed no more than a feather. Marco shot Neven a murderous look before rushing to check on Mario.

 

“Mario, are you alright? Did you get hurt?”

 

“Actually,” said Lewy thickly, as he lifted his shirt to check on his perfectly toned abs, “I’m the one that got punched remember? Maybe you should ask me that question.”

 

“Er,” said Marco distractedly, temporarily forgetting where he was upon seeing Lewy’s six-pack. “Oh yeah, right. Are you okay?”

 

Lewy laughed and stopped quite abruptly, “Ouch. I’m fine. But your friend has got quite a good punch.” He turned to look at Woj, who was busy checking the video he just recorded, “Woj can you please put down your mobile to help a dying friend?”

 

Marco looked at Neven pleadingly and Neven caught on right away. “Let me take a look at you Lewy. I’m a doctor and might be able to help you there. Come on, let me take you to the bedroom so you can lie down.” 

 

Marco turned his attention back to Mario, who was scowling but otherwise unhurt.

 

“What the hell was that Mario? What’s got into you?”

 

“He was snogging you!” Mario flared up at once.

 

“So?” asked Marco exasperatedly, “Are you going to attack every fella who’s snogging me? I’m never going to find anyone with a crazed overprotective friend like you around!”

 

“No, I don’t!” cried Mario indignantly, “If you remember, I’ve seen you snogging at least a dozen blokes before and I’ve never done that.”

 

“So why now? Why just Lewy?” asked Marco thoroughly confused. 

 

“Because he snogged you against your will!” exclaimed Mario. “It’s obvious that he fancies you like mad but I don’t think you’re certain if you want to snog him. So how dare he force himself on you?”

 

“Well,” said Marco, a little embarrassed, “force is a strong word.”

 

“Whatever,” said Mario impatiently, “the point is, you are not ready to snog him yet but he did it anyway. Of course I went a bit berserk.”

 

“How do you even know I’m not ready?” asked Marco curiously.

 

“Oh for heaven’s sake Marco, do you really think I can’t tell what you’re thinking? I’ve known you for ages and you’re an open book in front of me. But anyway, I reckon this Lewy might be good for you”

 

Marco stared at Mario in disbelief, “You think he’s good for me and you punched him?”

 

“What can I say? I have to defend my best mate’s honour no matter what. It’s just something you’ve got to do on principle. But yeah, I think he’s good for you because at least he knows what he wants and he will go get it. You’re too passive in the relationship department Marco. You always put others in front of you, which is a good thing. Don’t get me wrong. We love having a friend like you. But you’ve got to think for yourself sometimes. And you never make the first move. At least someone’s doing all the chasing this time. Besides, you’re obviously attracted to him. So what’s the problem?”

 

Marco hesitated. He felt stupid about his reservation towards Lewy but figured that if there was anyone he could confide in, it would be Mario. “I can’t read him. Normally when I meet someone new I can get a decent idea about what kind of person he is. But with Lewy, I can’t. He’s too complex and too mysterious.”

 

“He seems like just a flirty bloke with a swagger to me,” said Mario. “Nothing mysterious at all.”

 

“Yeah but no offense Mario, you deal with footballers every day and most of them aren’t overly-furnished in the brain department either, are they?”

 

“Marco Reus!” cried Mario indignantly, “Are you calling me a thickie?”

 

“No of course not Mario”, said Marco patiently, “I would never call you that. But you have to admit you don’t deal with professional criminals with twisted minds all the time, which is a blessing trust me. I do and that’s why I’ve been honed to read people and sense any danger.”

 

“And you’ve sensed danger with this Lewy?” asked Mario skeptically.

 

“Well, not exactly danger but something worth noticing,” said Marco slowly, “It’s like my instinct is telling me to be cautious. I just don’t buy into this whole flirty bloke thing. I don’t think that’s who he really is. In any case, I’m listening to my hunch. I always do.” 

 

Mario chewed on Marco’s words for a while and opened his mouth quite seriously, “Be careful then Marco. Like you said, I can’t read people so I can’t tell you what kind of bloke Lewy is. But if you feel something is off, better be cautious. Well, if anything, you might want to ask Neven and Mats. They’re much better at giving advice than I am. Oh and next time, if you don’t want to snog someone, please punch the chap yourself so I don’t have to do it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from Oklahoma City! Phew...
> 
> Poor Marco, he had such conflicting feelings about Lewy. Lewy won't give up though. It will be a long process, which will not be made easy by the protective Mario lol.
> 
> I'll probably start case 2 in the next chapter, which I hope can happen mid next week :)


	16. How to be Yourself on a First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new patrol officer was hired. Everyone was interested in Marco's love life. David refused to wear a wig and moustache. Marco went on the first date with Lewy after getting some help from Neven.

The first one to greet Marco when he arrived at the CID on Monday was Erik, who looked simply thrilled. “Morning Marco! What a lovely day!”

 

Marco gave him a suspicious look, “If you want to share the details of your love life with Neven, don’t. I didn’t help you lads make up for that.”

 

Erik didn’t seem at all offended, “No worries. I’m not going to share those details with anyone. Only I know that part of Neven and I plan to keep it like that. I meant to ask, how are things going between you and Lewy?”

 

Marco rolled his eyes and then stifled a large yawn. “How many times do I have to tell you lot? Nothing has happened. After that punching fiasco, we just talked for a bit, had a couple drinks, exchanged phone numbers and went our separate ways forever more.”

 

“You exchanged phone numbers?” Erik squealed with excitement and Marco wasn’t completely surprised to find David, Joe, Mesut, and Olivier converge on them. 

 

“Oh fine, focus on that part!” said Marco with irritation.

 

“Come on Marco,” said Olivier with his usual flirty tone while draping his arm around Marco’s shoulder, “you must like this Lewy. Has he asked you out yet?”

 

“You know what Olivier,” said Marco as he peeled Olivier’s arm off his shoulder with an expression of great distaste, “I much prefer the grumpy sulking you over the normal one. Maybe I shouldn’t have helped you.”

 

Olivier laughed and blew Marco a kiss before grabbing Mesut by the waist, “Nah Marco, I know you love me just the way I am!”

 

Marco mimed vomiting while the others laughed. Just then, Marcel and André crashed into the CID.

 

“Good gracious,” asked David in surprise, “what’s the matter?”

 

André steadied himself and asked, “Where is Roman and Kehli? They’re supposed to be at the interview today. The candidate has already arrived.”

 

Marco gave them a puzzled look, “What interview?”

 

“You didn’t know?” Marcel sounded even more surprised. “We’re hiring a new patrol officer. We’ve been understaffed for ages and we’re finally getting someone new. He’s passed all the interviews with our department so we just need him to talk to Roman and Kehli today to make sure that he can work with you lads as well. I can’t believe no one has told you about it.”

 

Marco shrugged, “We’ve been working on a murder case, remember? That sort of blocked everything else out.”

 

“What’s the candidate like?” piped up Joe.

 

“He’s definitely qualified.” André screwed up his face, “I used to work with him in Leverkusen before I transferred to Dortmund. He may seem a little intimidating but I suppose it can’t hurt in this case.”

 

“Jeez,” said Olivier half laughing, “how sorry-looking is this bloke?” and received an elbow in the ribs from Mesut, “Ouch!”

 

“Does he seem like a good person to work with?” asked David.

 

“Like I said, he may not look like the cleverest chap in the world but he’s more than capable for what we need. He’s also got excellent recommendations,” said André, “He may even be able to help you lads on some cases. Heaven forbid if we have another intern who doesn’t know how to preserve the crime scene. İlkay might do me in if that happens again.”

 

“You bet I will,” İlkay said sullenly and everyone jumped. “Can I talk to him?”

 

“Please İlkay,” said Marcel pleadingly, “don’t traumatise him before he even joins us. That’s how you scared off the last three candidates.”

 

“And the one time I didn’t?” İlkay retorted, “You hired an intern who’s thick as a whale omelette. Come on, he’s a police officer for Christ’s sake. If he can’t handle me, he might as well pack up and go home.”

 

“Fine,” said André grudgingly, “but only because we can’t find Roman and Kehli.”

 

“What’s his name?” asked Mesut

 

“Diego Costa,” said André, “actually Marco, it might be a good idea for you and Erik to meet him too. I honestly don’t want İlkay to be the only representative of your department.”

 

“Good idea!” said Marco before İlkay could complain. “We have no major cases right now so why not?” Erik nodded his approval and they set out to meet this Diego Costa.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Once Marco had met Diego, he understood what André meant by a little intimidating. In fact, if he hadn’t read Diego’s profile, Marco could never have believed that Diego was only 28. He made a mental note to do a close inspection of his face right after work and maybe even schedule a facial. It was never too early to fight against ageing. Next to him, Erik was touching his own face surreptitiously too and Marco almost laughed. İlkay, on the other hand, was eyeing Diego’s face with professional interest. Learning from past experience, Marco refrained from asking İlkay what he was thinking.

 

Despite his unfortunate premature ageing problem, Diego turned out to be quite competent. He was also perfectly composed when İlkay started to bombard him with questions about crime scene preservation and investigation. Marco could tell that André was frustrated because the majority of those questions were standard questions for detectives, not patrol officers. But to everyone’s surprise, Diego was able to answer most of them without any hesitation.

 

“Have you worked as a detective before?” asked Erik curiously.

 

“No,” said Diego calmly, “but I do have an interest in crime science so I’ve read a lot about it.”

 

“This is excellent!” cried İlkay in delight. “I bet we can even train you up to be a part time detective or something. When the lads from London are gone, we’re definitely going to need more people in our department.”

 

Marco shook his head, “They have spoiled you İlkay. We used to work with Marcel on our team remember? Now we have Erik. It’s a big improvement already.”

 

“Hey,” yelled Marcel indignantly, “I’m still here you know.”

 

İlkay smirked, “Sorry but you have to admit Marco was right. I just don’t understand why you were so squeamish. I mean honestly,”

 

“Hem, hem,” coughed André, “I thought we were here to meet Diego.”

 

“Oh right,” said Marco, feeling abashed about their little conversation, “Look forward to working with you Diego.”

 

Everyone else nodded and André clapped his hands together, “Excellent. Why don’t I show you around now Diego so you can jump right into the action this afternoon.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Marco got back to the CID, he checked his mobile and found a new message from Lewy.

 

“Hey Marco, I hope you’ve had a fantastic weekend. I’m actually in Dortmund this week so would you be free tomorrow for dinner after work?”

 

Great, Marco thought bitterly to himself, another square. He started typing his reply.

 

“Tmr wrks 4 me. 7 good?”

 

Marco hesitated before he hit send. Maybe it would be a good idea to get an expert’s opinion. He looked around and found Olivier busy making coffee for Mesut. David, on the other hand, was reading the case files with Joe next to him. Marco figured that neither of them were particularly busy and decided to interrupt them.

 

“Can I have a word, Olivier, David?”

 

Once they were inside Marco’s laboratory, Marco told them every detail about his interaction with Lewy and showed them the text messages. “So basically I can’t decide if I should send him this text. What do you think?” He looked expectantly at David, who seemed to be suffering from immense internal pain. Olivier however, seemed rather amused by Marco’s dilemma. “Why, you’re afraid he might think you’re a high school girl?”

 

“What?” cried Marco in confusion.

 

“I hate to say this but I agree with Olivier for once in my life,” said David shaking his head. “This is the most painful text I have to read. You may consider rewording it so it looks like a text from an actual human being.”

 

“What’s wrong with my texting style?” said Marco indignantly, “I know it’s not the most sophisticated but it saves time. Besides that’s who I am. I’m not changing my style for any man. Never!”

 

“So why do you need our advice?” asked Olivier casually.

 

“Hello? Is anyone paying attention to what I’m saying? You’re missing the point completely. I’m asking you for advice on whether I should see Lewy again or not.”

 

“Look Marco,” said David placatingly, “we were not with you when you had your little encounter with Lewy so we can’t know for sure. But from what you’ve described, he certainly seems interested in you. I also agree with you on the part of him not being 100% himself with you. I don’t know why he’s pretending to be a flirty idiot but I don’t think he’s doing it specifically to you.”

 

“I don’t think you can figure this out by thinking about it over and over again in your head,” said Olivier, finally sounding serious. “You have to see him again to know for sure. Well, if you do want to know that is. If you don’t like him, then just forget about it and move on.”

 

“Okay,” said Marco slowly, still thinking, “I’ll have dinner with him and see how it goes. David,” he turned to look at David expectantly, “could you go to this dinner with me? I mean,” he hastily added when he saw the scandalised expression on David’s face, “not with me on the date. But you know, on a nearby table. That way you can see what Lewy’s like.”

 

“For heaven’s sake Marco!” cried David while Olivier roared with laughter, “You’re a grown-up, not a teenage boy on his first date. I’m not going to sneak around your table while you’re having dinner with this Lewy! I mean heaven forbid, please don’t tell me you want me to go incognito!”

 

“Well,” muttered Marco, “I thought a wig and some false moustache might do. It was just an idea you know. No need to get worked up about it.”

 

David opened his mouth and closed it again, clearly having some real difficulty with finding the right word. He finally sighed and said, “I meant what I said Marco. You’re going on this date on your own. Trust me, it’s the only way things might work out between you and Lewy. Oh stop laughing Olivier, you sound like a cackling hag who has just kidnapped a baby for dinner.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marco woke up early the next day and spent a good 30 minutes changing his outfit. His first thought was a polo t-shirt with slacks, casual but classy. But considering that Lewy worked as a financial consultant, he might turn up in his tie and suit. Unfortunately, Marco didn’t own that many formal clothes and his only clean unrumpled suit was made of plum velvet. He racked his brain for a second, trying to remember why he had bought something that made him look like a magician. He then realised that it was picked by Neven when Marco was half drunk. Marco sighed and tossed the suit back to the wardrobe. Just when he was about to give up, his mobile rang.

 

“Hey Marco it’s me,” Neven’s cheerful voice sounded from the other end of the line, “Erik told me that you’re going out with Lewy tonight. Need any help on what to wear?”

 

“Says the guy who picked a magician suit for me,” Marco retorted back grumpily. “No offence Neven but your taste is simply horrendous.”

 

“None taken,” Neven’s cheerful tone did not change a bit, “I used to go out with Mats remember? So it’s got to be similar in your case. By the way, you should never wear your purple suit.”

 

“Which I bought because you suggested it when I was half drunk!”

 

“Oh well,” laughed Neven, “I thought it would be good for a fancy dress party. But anyway, don’t dress too formal. It’s not you. But don’t dress too casually either. It is a first date after all.”

 

“Any suggestions?”

 

“So what about a formal shirt with smart trousers? Make sure both are slim fit, especially the trousers. You want to show off your bottom.”

 

“Have you made a study of my bottom?” cried Marco in disbelief.

 

“Well, it’s sort of hard to ignore really. I mean it’s with you all the time. Anyway, you should go with dark green for your shirt. It brings out the colour of your eyes. Oh and no ties.”

 

Surprised by the validity of Neven’s fashion suggestion, Marco listened to him and picked a nice dark green shirt and a pair of slim fit smart trousers. He checked himself in the mirror after he fixed his hair and was quite pleased with the results.

 

The rest of the day passed without incident. Since they had been solely focused on the murder case, they had got quite a few cases left from the previous weeks. A new case of attempted burglary was assigned to İlkay, Shinji and Mesut. David volunteered to work with Joe on a case of insurance fraud, partly because he wanted to avoid Marco in case he changed his mind. Marco was left to work with Erik and Olivier on a sexual assault case. The whole day Olivier and Joe kept winking and wiggling their eyebrows at him; Marco finally cracked and flung a large sofa cushion at them, which unfortunately missed and hit Roman square in the head. Marco left 10 minutes later with Roman’s shouting reverberating in his ears, making him feel dizzy.

 

By the time Marco was ready to leave work for the dinner date with Lewy, everyone else was done with their work too. As Marco made his way to the front door, he received numerous pats and thumps on the back and heard several loud whistles. Cursing under his breath, he left as swiftly as humanly possible, dodging İlkay’s raised hand.

 

The restaurant Lewy picked was an upscale one. Most of the other customers were all dressed in very formal attire and Marco was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Before he could dwell on the thought any further, he saw Lewy walking towards him and his jaw dropped. Lewy was wearing a dark blue silk shirt, which made his eyes look like deep blue ocean. His suit draped casually over his arm, the shirt fitted him so well that Marco could see Lewy’s broad chest and even his six-pack, though the latter could be Marco’s own hallucination. 

 

Lewy was clearly satisfied with the reaction he had got from Marco, if the smirk on his face was anything to go by. Marco steadied himself and rose from his seat to greet Lewy. To his immense satisfaction, Marco could tell that Lewy was equally stunned by his choice of clothes. Making a mental note to never laugh at Neven’s taste again, Marco gave Lewy a hug. He had intended it to be a quick one but Lewy didn’t let go right away but lingered for a bit. Before Marco could say anything though, Lewy had released Marco and was pulling the chair for him.

 

“Nice restaurant,” said Marco a little awkwardly, “I’ve never been here before.”

 

“You haven’t?” asked Lewy as he sat down gracefully, “It’s one of my favourites in Dortmund. Probably the only real authentic French restaurant in town in my opinion. Most of the guests here are regulars with fine taste. The wine collection is simply divine. You don’t find 100-year-old French anywhere, especially not in Dortmund.”

 

“I’m afraid I’m not a wine connoisseur though,” said Marco almost defiantly, “I’m more of a beer type bloke.”

 

“Oh don’t worry,” Lewy winked at Marco, “I’ll be more than happy to help you refine your, eh, tastebud.”

 

Marco shifted nervously in his seat. He wasn’t sure if he liked where the conversation was going. Sensing Marco’s discomfort, Lewy changed the subject swiftly, “I remember you telling me that you are interested in history. Is there a particular country or period that has caught your fancy?” 

 

“Yes,” smiled Marco gratefully at the change of subject, “in addition to German history, I’ve always found the Egyptian history fascinating.”

 

“Ah yes of course,” smiled Lewy, “Who has not been fascinated by the vast pyramids in Giza, the mysterious sun temples, and those devout followers of Horus. I have been to Egypt several times and the Nile delta region never fails to amaze me. Tell me, which dynasty is your favourite?”

 

They spent the whole dinner time discussing Egypt history and culture. Marco had never met anyone so knowledgeable and well-travelled. Lewy as it turned out, had even lived in some exotic countries for a while.

 

“This is unbelievable,” said Marco excitedly towards the end of dinner. “I’ve never got the chance to talk to someone about history and culture. I envy you though. I wish I could live in a country like Japan for a while. How do you manage to get around?”

 

“Well, I can speak a little bit of Japanese. Once you’re there, you tend to pick up things much faster.”

 

“Wow,” said Marco in amazement, “Polish, German, English and now Japanese. You speak so many different languages.”

 

“It’s always handy to know some foreign languages, especially when you want to chat up some blokes in a bar,” winked Lewy, “I can teach you some basic phrases if you want.” His eyes darted to Marco’s lips and he smiled meaningfully, “Besides, learning new languages is a good exercise for the mouth, if you know what I mean.”

 

Marco was rendered speechless for a couple seconds but he finally cracked, “Listen Robert, I don’t know how to break this to you in a nice way. But would you please acting like a total prat in front of me?”

 

Lewy’s smile froze but Marco continued nonetheless, “I don’t know what you’re playing at but you’re not showing me your true self. I simply don’t understand! I mean I enjoy talking to you a lot. You’re probably one of the most interesting men I’ve ever met and I never know I could meet someone with such similar interest. But then once the topic is over, you put your mask back on again. Why? If you can’t even be yourself with me, what’s the whole point of this? Or are you just trying to get into my pants?”

 

Lewy remained silent for a while before he finally broke the silence. “My deepest apologies Marco. I meant no disrespect. I guess I’ve just been,” he paused for a second, as if trying to find the suitable word. Marco was still fuming but the change of tone in Lewy’s voice kept him from answering back. 

 

“It’s never easy being yourself in front of people you’ve just met,” said Lewy slowly with his eyes fixed on Marco, his voice serious and sincere, “I’ve experienced losses in my past that has forced me to act strong, even when I feel vulnerable and scared. This, in addition to my work, gets me used to pretending in front of people. I’ve never meant to act like that in front you Marco. I really like you. And not just because you’re fit and attractive. I’d been observing you at the party. The care and loyalty you showed towards you friends. It’s something I deeply value. And we have such similar interest that talking to you is so easy and fun. My only defence is that I’m so attracted to you that I feel a little scared. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. So I resort to the only way I know to protect myself without even realising it. It’s a self-preservation thing you know. I am truly sorry.” Lewy took Marco’s hand in his own and looked Marco straight in the eye, “Could you please forgive me and let’s start all over again?”

 

Marco looked into those astonishingly blue eyes and could feel Lewy’s sincerity. He nodded and said in a small voice, “Yeah I suppose I can. I’m sorry about the outburst too.”

 

Lewy smiled fondly at Marco and said, “I should thank you for that. You gave me a wake up call with your speech. I’m so used to living with my mask on that I sometimes forget to take it off. Please bear with me though. I’ll try my best to change but it’s not easy.”

 

Marco smiled back and squeezed Lewy’s hand slightly, “Don’t worry. I’m known for my patience. Besides, if I can stand İlkay and Olivier, I’m sure I can bear with you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't get to start Case 2 in this chapter. My only defence was that I want to write more about Lewy and Marco :) But it will definitely start in the next chapter.
> 
> I'm not sure if I've done justice to the interaction between Lewy and Marco. But after reading and re-reading it, I realised that I should probably go get a drink lol. Let me know what you think.


	17. Third Date Rule Doesn't Work for Everyone and Case 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco didn't like to play by the book when it came to dating. Mario, Neven, and Mats were trying to help. İlkay might have smoked something weird. And Case 2 had finally started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to any Thomas Müller fans. I have to pick a victim and I picked him (please don't ask me why as I have no idea).

For the next two weeks, Marco had gone out with Lewy three times. They walked around the city, went to see a film, and even went to a Dortmund game in Westfalenstadion. Lewy surprised him with two prime tickets for one of Dortmund’s pre-season games and Marco nearly passed out from excitement. After their discussion on their first date, Lewy was making a point to be himself around Marco, which Marco deeply appreciated. Of course, it was hard to shake off a habit that had been around for these many years and Marco sometimes found Lewy slipping back to his flirty facade. But Lewy usually adjusted himself right away after apologising to Marco and Marco was patient. All in all, Lewy as it transpired, was a fun and intelligent person. Marco had never had a dull moment with him.

 

“So things are going well between you and the Pole then?” asked Mats when they were out for tea one day. Mario got several days off from pre-season training and had decided to go back to Dortmund to visit them.

 

“I think so,” said Marco, “I mean we’ve just started going out so it’s a bit early to tell. But I like spending time with him a lot. After he’s stopped being a prat, he turns out to be a pretty down-to-earth person.”

 

Neven chuckled, “I thought your little tantrum was brilliant. I wish I were there to see it.”

 

Marco gave him a withering look, “It was not a tantrum. Anyway, it worked out fine so that’s all that matters. Where is Erik by the way? I thought you two were inseparable?”

 

“Erik is out with his friends from university,” said Neven with a smug expression on his face. “He said that the four of us never got the chance to get together so he didn’t want to intrude.” 

 

“You lucky idiot,” said Mats half laughing half serious, “How come you always manage to find someone so considerate?”

 

“You know what Mats,” smirked Neven, “if you want us to compliment you, ask.”

 

“What can I say? Subtly has always been my strong point.”

 

“Unfortunately it’s quite true,” sighed Neven almost reminiscently, “ I remember your sly innuendos whenever we had a row. Made me want to punch you in the face.”

 

Mats laughed, “I’ve always enjoyed those times. It actually helped me practice my negotiation skills. My clients should all write you thank-you notes.”

 

Mario and Marco’s heads swivelled from Mats to Neven. This was the first time they had seen Neven and Mats so at ease with each other after their split-up. Mario, who hadn’t got to spend much time with Neven and Mats, was looking at them with his mouth slightly open. Unfortunately, his mouth was so full of cake and other food that he presented a rather unpleasant sight. Mats looked at Mario with a pained expression on his face.

 

“For heaven’s sake Mario, where are your manners? Besides, are you really supposed to eat all these sweets? The season is about to start in a couple weeks!”

 

Mario swallowed hard, which was quite a feat considering the amount of food he had in his mouth, and said indignantly, “It’s just a tiny bit of cake. I’m on holiday Mats! I can indulge in a little bit of sweets.”

 

“You certainly have a very different definition of a little bit,” said Mats snidely. “But at least you look less like a chipmunk now so that’s something.”

 

Mario threw Mats a dirty look before turning to Marco with a suggestive smile, “So, have you shagged Lewy yet?”

 

Marco almost choked on his tea, “What the hell Mario? A minute ago you were punching this bloke into a pulp because he kissed me and now you want me to shag him?”

 

“Well, you’ve been on four dates with him already,” shrugged Mario. “Remember the third date rule?”

 

“I’m not going to shag someone simply because of a stupid number!” said Marco hotly. “I’ll only sleep with him when I feel ready!”

 

“Don’t mind Mario,” Neven patted Marco on the back soothingly, “he’s just had too much sweet, which has unfortunately affected his ability to think. Kids these days.”

 

“Hey!” yelled Mario but Mats silenced him by swiftly stuffing a piece of giant banana bread into Mario’s mouth. Neven and Marco stared at him open-mouthed. Mats merely shrugged and said matter-of-factly, “It's the easiest way to silence him really.”

 

“Right,” said Marco slowly, trying to shake off the image of Mario struggling to swallow the giant banana bread, “anyway, I don’t think I’m ready with Lewy yet. I mean I like him a lot but I still don’t think I know him that well. I definitely feel the attraction and chemistry between us but I want a deeper connection.”

 

“From what you’ve told us, you’ve already covered 1000 years of Egyptian history and over 10 exotic countries,” said Neven shaking his head. “If you want to go any deeper than this, you might as well go back to university to read history or something.”

 

“Yeah and that’s all very well,” said Marco patiently, “I know what he likes but not what he’s like. I don’t know about his family, his history, his opinion on things, his ambitions and dreams. I want to connect with him emotionally.”

 

“I think you’re right Marco,” said Mats seriously, “It’s good that you’re taking things slow. I’m glad he respects your choice as well. He sounds like a keeper.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Back in the office, Marco was bombarded with the similar questions from Olivier, Erik, and İlkay.

 

“So you still haven’t slept with him, hmm,” said İlkay thoughtfully.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Marco quickly.

 

“It means,” said İlkay with a very serious tone, “you need to be careful.”

 

“Careful?”

 

“Yes. Because the longer you don’t have sex, the more you turn into a hoover pig.”

 

“A what?” cried Marco incredulously. Fortunately, everyone else, including Olivier, seemed utterly perplexed by İlkay too.

 

“You know, if you haven’t shagged anyone for a long time, you’ll get over-excited when you finally get to do it. So in the process, you might, you know, ingest something by accident. I guess it’s more likely to happen when you’re shagging women who like to wear jewelries but who knows.”

 

İlkay’s explanation was greeted with total silence. Finally Marco said, “Every morning I wake up glad I’m not you.”

 

The phone rang amongst everyone’s laughter. David picked it and said, “Dortmund Police, how can I help you? Yes, yes. What? Hang on a second.” David turned to everyone and said in a dead serious tone, “Someone is phoning to report a potential murder. I’ll put him on speaker.”

 

Everyone fell silent and listened intently to the chap on the other end of the line, who sounded extremely distressed. “Hi, my name is Toni Kroos. I’m a PhD student in TU Dortmund. I’ve just found the body of my be.. best friend.” His voice broke and they could hear a faint sob. Joe opened his mouth but David put his hand on Joe’s arm to stop him gently. 

 

After a minute or so, Toni seemed to have pulled himself together and he continued, “I texted Thomas a couple times yesterday to see if he wanted to play football together but didn’t receive any replies. I thought he was just busy because he was working on a project. But when he didn’t pick up my call this morning, I got a bit concerned and thought he might be ill. I went to his flat but his flatmate told me that Thomas wasn’t home yesterday and the last time he saw Thomas was Saturday afternoon. Thomas told him that he was going to do some work in the department over the weekend. I got seriously worried and went to look for Thomas in the department. And I found him, in the department meeting room, and he was de...dea...dead.” 

 

At this point, Toni was clearly overcome by grief and could no longer form a coherent sentence. Marco gave David a significant look before dragging Erik, İlkay, and Shinji with him to go to TU Dortmund. Before he closed the door, he could hear David’s soft voice comforting Toni.

 

Marco’s phone rang when İlkay was driving at a frightening speed to TU Dortmund. “Hey it’s Marco.”

 

“Marco it’s Olivier. We’re on our way too. David and Mesut stayed behind so they can calm Toni down until we’ve reached him. He’s in the crime scene right now. Luckily no one is there yet and he did the right thing, which is to phone us right away. Anyway, he’s on the fourth floor of the Department of Economics, fifth room on the left after you get out of the elevator.”

 

“Thanks a lot Olivier. We should be there in…”

 

“Two minutes,” shouted İlkay as he made a sharp right turn with the speed of light.

 

True to his word, İlkay parked the car in the car park of TU Dortmund exactly two minutes later. The moment the car stopped, Erik stumbled out of the backseat, his hand over his mouth, looking very green. Marco had to take several deep breaths himself too. He made a mental note never to let İlkay drive again even when they were running for their lives. Shinji, of course, was perfectly composed. Marco thought it was either because Shinji was so used to İlkay’s driving that he didn’t mind or because Shinji somehow lacked the sensory system of a normal people. It was kind of hard to say with Shinji really.

 

They had caused quite a scene on their way to this department meeting room. Professors and students stopped to stare at them as four fully dressed and fully equipped police officers were marching into their department. Nobody dared to stop them though, except a serious-looking man in his early 60s.

 

“Good morning, I’m Louis Van Gaal, Head of the Department of Economics. May I inquire as to the reason of your visit sir?”

 

They exchanged a quick look before Marco offered Van Gaal his hand. “Good morning professor Van Gaal, would you like to accompany us to the fourth floor? We’re here because of a rather unfortunate event that took place in the past 48 hours. I believe you should be aware of such things as head of department.” 

 

Van Gaal’s already serious expression turned to a grave one, “Of course. I hope it’s not anything too dreadful. Which room on the fourth floor would you like to go?”

 

“The department meeting room,” answered Erik.

 

Van Gaal gave them a quizzical look, “Which one?”

 

“There are more than one?” asked Erik.

 

“Of course,” said Van Gaal, “there are five meeting rooms for the department. Four of them are open to all the students and faculty members and can be accessed at pretty much any time. The other one is faculty only and requires a reservation before it can be used. It’s also locked after hours and of course during the weekend.”

 

“We’re looking for the fifth room on the left,” said Marco quickly as they stepped into the elevator.

 

Van Gaal stopped dead on his track, “The fifth one on the left?”

 

“Yes,” said İlkay, “why what’s wrong with it?”

 

“Well, it’s the faculty only one. Only the Deputy Head of Department and myself have the key to that room.”

 

Erik almost tripped but they could hardly blame him. If what Van Gaal had said was true, this case might be much easier than they thought. 

 

“But what about the cleaning personnel? Don’t they have access to the room too?” asked Shinji.

 

“Ah yes of course,” said Van Gaal nodding. “We have two dedicated cleaning personnel for the department. One of them has the key.”

 

“Who’s the Deputy Head of Department?”

 

“Professor Joachim Löw.”

 

“Hang on,” said Marco slowly, remembering something, “isn’t he the advisor of Héctor Bellerín?”

 

“Yes,” said Van Gaal as he gave Marco a calculating look. “Professor Löw is an exceptionally bright man well-versed in the subject of Economics History.”

 

“Does he know Thomas Müller by any chance?” asked Erik in a would-be casual tone that had fooled no one at all. Van Gaal’s sharp eyes fixed on him immediately. “Yes, of course he does. He’s Thomas’ PhD advisor after all. Is Thomas involved in this incident?”

 

They were outside the faculty meeting room and İlkay said as he pushed open the door, “Well, you better see for yourself, Professor Van Gaal.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The sight that greeted them wasn’t a pleasant one. Toni Kroos was huddled at a corner of the room, crying silently into his knees while still listening to his mobile. Without a word, Shinji hurried to him. At the far end of the room, a body was lying on the carpet in front of a computer desk, the chair turned. İlkay put on his gloves and rushed to inspect the body, Erik hot on his heels. Marco turned around and saw the dumbfounded expression on Van Gaal’s face, his mouth slightly open. Marco sighed.

 

“Professor Van Gaal, do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

 

Before Van Gaal could say anything, Olivier and Joe crashed through the door, closely followed by Mesut. Marco looked at Mesut questioningly and he answered, “David is on the phone with Toni. He’s better at comforting people than I am so I thought I should come here to help.”

 

After Mesut had gone to help İlkay and Erik, Marco turned back to face Van Gaal, “Professor Van Gaal, you said that this room is only open during work hours and locked during the weekend.”

 

“Yes,” said Van Gaal, still looking extremely shocked and troubled, “but it’s not against the rules for a faculty member to meet with a student here. Professor Löw has been using this room to meet with Thomas over the past month to work on Thomas’ PhD project. The computer in this room is the most powerful one in the department, with several CPUs for parallel processing and access to some classified database. That’s why this room is so popular amongst the faculty members and students. Professor Löw usually only meets Thomas here after hours so the other faculty members can use it during the day.”

 

“When does the cleaner usually come to clean during the weekend? We also need his or her contact information,” asked Marco while Joe was scribbling down notes of what Van Gaal had just said.

 

“Her name is Gertrude Frantz. I can ask my secretary to find her contact information for you. She’s been working with us for over 15 years and we’ve never had a complaint about her. She’s usually here Tuesday through Saturday although she has worked on Sundays before. We don’t really keep track of her time as long as she gets things done.”

 

“We will definitely need to talk to her,” said Olivier, “Joe, could you go find Professor Van Gaal’s secretary?” Without a word, Joe left to his mission.

 

“Could you tell us a bit more about Professor Löw and Thomas Müller?” asked Marco.

 

“Of course. Professor Löw joined the department over 20 years ago. He specialises in economics history and the intersection between economics and finance. It’s quite rare to achieve so much at his age. He’s currently teaching a class, which should end in 30 minutes. As for Thomas Müller, he was a very bright student. I’ve attended several of his presentations. He had got a unique perspective, which allowed him to discovered areas with huge potential while others can’t. I don’t know much about his current project, having not worked with him directly. But from the way Professor Löw described it, it could be a big one with major impact.”

 

“But what about their personalities?” David’s calm voice came from behind.

 

“Both of them are very friendly people. Professor Löw is quiet and very private. But he’s an excellent lecturer loved by many students. Thomas was also very popular amongst the students and faculty members. He was very outgoing and cheerful, always cracking jokes. Whenever there was a party within the department, he was usually the organiser and people loved him. I really can’t think of anyone who might have a grudge against him.”

 

“Does he have a girlfriend of any sort?” Olivier asked curiously.

 

“Not that I know of. But then again, I really don’t know much about Thomas’ personal life. Toni would be the better one to ask for this matter.”

 

“Thank you very much for the information Professor Van Gaal,” said Marco. “One more thing, could you give us a list of those who are close with Thomas and Professor Löw?”

 

Van Gaal thought for moment, then said, “I don’t know if a list would be necessary. As far as I know, there aren’t a lot. Professor Löw was ready to go on sabbatical soon so he didn’t have that many students. Thomas was one and Toni is another. The only other one Professor Löw is working with now is Héctor Bellerín. As for their friends, I really can’t say much.”

 

Once Van Gaal had left, Marco looked at the others. “What do you think?”  


“We need to talk to this Professor Löw,” said David firmly. “I think I better go talk to Toni. Olivier and Marco, Professor Löw is all yours.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Olivier stopped Marco when he was ready to leave for the lecture to find Professor Löw, “I think we should go undercover.” 

 

“What do you mean?” asked Marco slightly puzzled.

 

“Look, nobody knows about this yet. Van Gaal is in his office with Joe and his secretary. Toni hasn’t told anyone about this. It’s still early in the morning, not even 9 yet. So our professor has no way of knowing that this has been discovered. If we pretend to be Thomas’ friend or whatever, we could get a real reaction out of him.”

 

Marco gave Olivier a skeptical look. “Are you sure about this? I mean how can you even pretend to be Thomas’ friend? You know nothing about him.”

 

“Ah,” said Olivier triumphantly, “I actually did some research on our way there.”

 

“Research?” asked Marco with a raised eyebrow, “You mean you stalked him facebook account or something?”

 

“Stalk is such an ugly word,” sighed Olivier dramatically. “But yes, I’ve asked Joe to crack his social network accounts. It seems like Thomas Müller is either a closeted gay or a prankster.” 

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Well, he had been chatting with this French lad and thing were getting pretty heavy between them. Unless he was playing a prank on him, which wouldn’t be so surprising given his personality. Thomas had also hinted on inviting this lad to visit him for a romantic weekend. His name was Pascal and I could be Pascal. You could be my friend in Dortmund.”

 

Marco felt the dull ache settling around his temple and he sighed, “Fine. I reckon I can’t stop you anyway. But please don’t blow it.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It took them very little time to change. Olivier had obviously planned for this, as he took out some spare clothes for both him and Marco. When they made it to the classroom, the lecture had just finished with students filing out. 

 

“Excuse me asking,” said Olivier in heavily accented German as he approached the professor behind the desk. “Are you professor Löw?”

 

The man looked up from his laptop and said with a smile, “Yes, I am professor Löw. How can I help you?”

 

“Parfait!” said Olivier in a good imitation of a clueless French idiot, “I look for Thomas Müller. You know ‘im?”

 

Jogi Löw looked at Olivier with a bewildered expression on his face, “Yes of course I know Thomas. He’s one of my PhD students. But you are?”

 

“Oh Pascal. My name ees Pascal,” said Olivier loudly, making Marco wince, “This is my friend, Dominic. Thomas ask me to come. A romantic week. I come. Mais ‘e no tell me where.”

 

Marco had to intervene before he died from Olivier’s purposeful butchering of German, “Yes, Pascal was eager to meet Thomas but didn’t know how. So I helped him find out that you are his professor. Maybe you could help us find Thomas?”

 

Jogi Löw sighed deeply and looked at Marco, “Well, this could be, er,” he lowered his voice and asked Marco. “Actually, how’s your friend’s German?”

 

“Not very well, as you can probably tell,” muttered Marco. Right on cue, Olivier flashed them his most idiotic smile. It took all of Marco’s self-control not to punch that smile away.

 

“Good,” said Jogi quite relieved, “As far as I know, Thomas is straight.” Figuring that he should act his part, Marco faked a surprised look while silently cursing Olivier for his stupid idea. Jogi seemed to buy it as he nodded gravely, “That’s right. Thomas is also sort of a joker. He likes to play pranks on people and I’m afraid that’s one of them. I’ve never thought he’d take it that far though to be honest.”

 

“So you’re sure he would not invite my friend over to spend the week with him?” asked Marco while watching Jogi closely.

 

“Of course not,” said Jogi confidently, “Thomas has been so busy working on his PhD project now that he doesn’t have time for anything else. We’re even meeting on the weekends to discuss his ideas. I can’t imagine him taking time off with anyone during the week.”

 

“But maybe Thomas did intend to meet my friend. He just forgot to tell you. My friend talked to Thomas on Saturday,” pressed Marco.

 

“Well, I haven’t talked to Thomas since Saturday night so I suppose it is a possibility,” said Jogi thoughtfully, “I find it highly unlikely though. I was actually working with him Saturday night.” He turned to Olivier and asked in very slow German, “When… did… you… talk… to… Thomas?”

 

“I talk to ‘im zis Saturday, late,  une heures ,” answered Olivier eagerly. “Thomas tell me to come. I come. Where is ‘im?”

 

Jogi looked at Olivier with great regret on his face and replied in perfect French, “I’m really sorry Pascal, I’m afraid you’re the victim of a practical joke. Thomas was actually working with me on Saturday night. I left at 1:30 am and he was still there. So you see, Thomas couldn’t have invited you to visit.” When he said this, Jogi’s face was perfectly calm and Marco could not detect a trace of scare nor unease. He looked at Olivier, who to Marco’s great surprise, broke down in tears and started howling in French.

 

“Oh no! Thomas my love, how can you be so cruel. I gave you all my heart and now you’ve broken it. Oh my poor broken heart! It will never heal because it beats only for you my beautiful Thomas!”

 

Marco was deeply thankful that he hadn’t had breakfast that morning otherwise he might puke on the spot. Olivier was so into the act that he suddenly clasped his hands around his heart, let out a high-pitched wail, and faked a fainting fit. Before Marco could get to him (Marco had to admit that he was a little slow on the rescue because Olivier fully deserved to fall to the ground and break his hip), Jogi grabbed Olivier to prevent him from hitting the ground. Marco mumbled a quick thanks and a very sincere apology to Jogi before dragging Olivier away.

 

Once they were safely outside the classroom, Marco almost went ballistic, “Are you out of your mind, Olivier?! What were you playing at? You were a complete and utter idiot in there!”

 

Olivier laughed and patted Marco on the shoulder, “Don’t worry Marco, we’ve got what we wanted.” 

 

“Which is?” asked Marco impatiently.

 

“He’s not the one we’re looking for. I’m sure of it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, particularly the bit about Olivier lol. 
> 
> This case should be significantly shorter than Case 1, at least at the beginning. I'm also introducing more characters, which will hopefully all work out in the big picture :)
> 
> By the way, has anyone watched the City vs Chelsea game? I'm so excited that City is back in form. David has been simply magnificent this past two games. Our Merlin is back! I really hope City do well this season, especially in the Champions League. It might be David and Yaya's last chance.


	18. Case 2 - The Difficulty of Trying to Do the Right Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As case 2 unfolds, the officers are faced with a difficult choice. Shall they go with the protocol and rules or should they follow their heart? Everyone is trying to do the right thing, as the tension mounts.

When they got back to the crime scene, Marco noticed that the body was gone. After hearing the details of their conversation with Jogi, David seemed rather unperturbed by the fact that Olivier just pretended to be a French idiot in front of a potential suspect. Instead, he simply said, “Excellent. We’ve finished talking to Toni. He gave us a list of Thomas’ friends. Could you talk to them Olivier?”

 

The rest of them proceeded to collect fingerprints and DNA evidence in the room. By 2 pm in the afternoon, they were done and headed back to the CID.

 

“So,” said Kehli after everyone had gathered around the table, “what have we got?”

 

“Preliminary autopsy showed that the most likely cause of death is epidural haemorrhage caused by a blow to the temple. His middle meningeal artery was ruptured by the blow. The built-in pressure caused by the haemorrhage killed him,” said İlkay professionally. “As far as I can tell, the blow was very strong, causing a large amount of blood to build within his skull very quickly. I even found some small fracture on his skull close to the temple.”

 

“Good,” said Kehli, “so the attacker must be very strong. What about time of death?”

 

“It’s a bit hard to narrow down,” said Mesut, frowning, “Based on rigor mortis alone, I would say it happened about 30 hours ago. But since severe haemorrhaging can delay the onset of rigor mortis, I would say 33 to 31 hours ago is a safer bet.”

 

“So anywhere between 12:30 - 2:30 am early Sunday morning was possible,” said David quickly. Mesut nodded.

 

“Anything else you could tell from the body?” prompted Erik.

 

“His face had some very light bruises on the right cheek,” said Mesut, “which suggests that he might have fallen sideways to the right. The bruise from the blow is on his left temple and it’s facing downwards.”

They looked at each other. Olivier finally opened up his mouth, “His body was facing the window, wasn’t it? So the attacker could sneak up on him from behind and hit him with a club or something. Assuming that the attacker used both hands to swing the club, he is most likely left-handed, since he has attacked from left to right. And he must be standing up and attacking downwards.”

“I think you’re right,” agreed David, “Could we tell how tall the attacker is from the angle of the bruise?”

 

“We did a rough estimate. The attacker must be at least 5’11, but probably no more than 6’1. Six feet is my best guess,” answered Mesut.

 

“So that pretty much ruled Gertrude Frantz,” said Joe as he flipped through his notes, “She’s only 5’2 and not a very strong woman. Of course, appearances could be deceiving but I highly doubt that she could somehow manage to stand on something and hit Müller from an angle.”

 

“We didn’t find any sign of a chair or stool behind Müller’s body,” David added quickly.

 

“Well then, it’s most likely not her,” said Joe, “She didn’t seem to have a motive either. She doesn’t even know Müller that well and trust me, Müller certainly would not have a romantic relationship with her. She also has an alibi. She finished her cleaning at 12 pm Saturday afternoon and left the university right afterwards. The security bloke confirmed that. Then she headed directly for the train station to catch a train to Stuttgart. She only got back to Dortmund last night.”

 

“She could have given the key to someone else,” said David reasonably.

 

“It is a possibility, but highly unlikely I would say,” shrugged Joe.

 

“So we have two possible suspects at this point, Professor Joachim Löw and Professor Van Gaal,” summarised Kehli, “Both fit the height criterion. We know Joachim Löw was with Müller until at least 1:30 am early Sunday morning. So either Joachim Löw killed Müller while he was with Müller or Van Gaal killed Müller after Joachim Löw had left.”

 

“It’s not Löw,” said Olivier confidently.

 

“How can you be sure?” asked İlkay skeptically, “Just because he didn’t seem like a murderer doesn’t mean…”

 

“I’m sure of it because first of all, he volunteered information that we didn’t ask for,” interrupted Olivier, “He wasn’t hiding anything from anyone. Secondly, remember I almost fell to the ground before Löw caught me Marco?” “Vividly,” muttered Marco under his breath but Olivier ignored him and continued, “I could feel his strength and trust me, he’s not that strong. I also paid special attention to his wrist. For a blow so strong, there’s a high chance that the attacker would hurt his wrist. Löw didn’t have any problem with either of his wrist. Besides I noticed Löw’s handwriting. He’s not left-handed. I couldn’t find Héctor Bellerín so I went to talk to Müller’s friends. All of them told me that Müller idolised Löw. Löw has no child of his own so he came to treat Müller quite like his own son. How could he kill Müller? Last point is, Löw is not someone so stupid that he would commit such an obvious murder.”

 

“This is all very good,” said Shinji, who had been silently listening to the whole conversation, “But there’s one thing you didn’t know: Joachim Löw is a baseball aficionado. When he plays, he’s left-handed.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“We need to bring Joachim Löw in for questioning,” said Kehli.

 

“I still don’t think it’s him,” said Olivier hotly, “Somebody must have framed him.”

 

“I understand how you feel Olivier,” said Kehli patiently, “But right now he’s our only suspect.”  


“What about Van Gaal?” asked David.

 

“He doesn’t play baseball or any kind of sports,” said Joe quickly, “I’ve also questioned him and he has an alibi. He got home at 10 pm that night and hasn’t left home until the next morning. I have confirmed this with his neighbour and his wife.”

 

“He could leave his house after his wife had gone back to bed though,” insisted Olivier.

 

“Yes but again, that’s a small probability event Olivier,” sighed Kehli. “You have to set your feelings aside and work on the case objectively. Let’s bring Joachim Löw in. In the mean time Olivier, why don’t you go find Héctor Bellerín?”

 

Olivier rose from his seat reluctantly. Before he left the room, he shot David a meaningful look. Marco turned to find David frowning. He lowered his voice, “What do you think about this?”

 

“I happen to agree with Olivier on this case,” said David very seriously, “Joachim Löw is not our guy.”

 

When Jogi arrived at the CID, he looked deeply disconcerted. Marco supposed that he had heard the news and could hardly blame him. Before Kehli led Jogi to the interview room, Jogi noticed Marco and did a double take. Cursing silently, Marco instinctively grabbed a huge book and hid his face behind it. David gave a him a pitying look before saying, “He's in the interview room. You can show your face now.”

 

“One day,” muttered Marco through gritted teeth, “I’m going to strangle Olivier with my bare hands.”

 

David simply shrugged, “Trust me you’ll have to get in line. Come on let’s go.”

 

“But where are we going?” asked Marco utterly bewildered, “Aren’t you interviewing Löw with Kehli?”

 

“Kehli’s not stupid,” said David as he grabbed his coat, “He knew that neither Olivier nor I think Löw is the murderer. That’s why he took Erik with him. He needed someone unbiased. As for us, we’re going to find the murder weapon.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“So, where exactly are we going?” asked Marco as he got into the car. 

 

“To Löw’s house,” said David, “Whoever did it might leave the weapon there for us to find.” 

 

“How exactly is that going to help Löw?”

 

“It’s not,” said David in a very serious tone, “But it’s our due diligence and we have to do it.”

 

So they spent the next 2 hours scouring every inch around Jogi Löw’s house to no avail. After flipping through the contents of Jogi’s rubbish bin, Marco gave up, “I don’t think it’s here.”

 

David looked up from behind the bush, a twig still stuck in his dark hair, “I suppose not.”

 

“Whoever did it wouldn’t hide it here,” said Marco as he stretched his arms, “It’s too obvious.”

 

“You’re right,” said David thoughtfully, “But I know how we can find it.”

 

“How?”

 

“If Van Gaal is going to frame Löw, he will want us to find the murder weapon. So we just need to ask him again.”

 

“Why are you so convinced that Van Gaal is the real murderer?” asked Marco on their way back to TU Dortmund.

 

“Intuition?” said David shrugging, “In fact, I’m not sure but that’s the only possible explanation. Let’s see if he proves or disproves my suspicion.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

By the time they got to TU Dortmund, everyone was getting ready to leave. Lucky for them, they bumped into Van Gaal on their way in. 

 

“Ah Professor Van Gaal,” said David in a surprised tone that was very convincing, “how are you? I hope we haven’t caused too much trouble for you and your department.”

 

“No, no, not at all,” said Van Gaal, “It is a rather unfortunate event and I would be glad to provide any help.”

 

“Yes, of course,” nodded David gravely, “We will keep that in mind. But we’re at a standstill so far. I would hate to point finger at anyone without even a murder weapon. I do hope we find it quickly. We owe poor Mr Müller that much.”

 

“Thank you very much for all of your effort,” said Van Gaal sincerely, “I’m sure Mr Müller’s family and friends would really appreciate it. If there is anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to reach out to me. I will be in town during the week.”

 

“Oh, so you will be out of town in the weekend?”

 

“Just to Gelsenkirchen. My wife has always wanted to take a weekend away to go there, especially after Jogi’s wife Daniela told her about it.”

 

“Professor Löw’s wife is from Gelsenkirchen?” asked David casually, “She’s not a Schalke fan I hope.”

 

Van Gaal laughed, “I’m afraid she is. Her whole family is from Gelsenkirchen and they go to visit her parents almost every other weekend. I’m sure she must have dragged Jogi to a couple Schalke games. Lucky for her, Jogi is a Freiburg not Dortmund fan.”

 

“Well, personally I have nothing against Schalke fans as I’m from England,” David smiled and nodded at Marco, “But let’s hope she doesn’t meet this lot.”

 

Once Van Gaal was out of sight, David grabbed Marco and dragged him to a secluded corner. “I’m going to find Olivier. You go and phone Kehli right now to confirm that Löw and his wife did go to her parents’ place in Gelsenkirchen yesterday. We need to send someone there right now. I’ll bet you anything that the murder weapon is there.”

 

It was Joe who picked up the call, “CID, Joe speaking.”

 

“Joe it’s me Marco. Is Kehli and Erik still interviewing Löw?” asked Marco hastily, afraid that he might be too late.

 

“Yes, I think they’re wrapping up though. Wh…”  


“You need to go and ask Löw where he was yesterday. It’s critical and we have to know now.”

 

Without a word, Joe put down the phone. Marco was left to wait anxiously at his end of the line. Five minutes later, Erik picked up the phone. “Löw said that he was in Gelsenkirchen with his wife. They were visiting his wife’s parents. Marco, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

 

“Yes,” said Marco, “Someone needs to go...”

 

“Joe will go,” said Erik firmly before Marco could even finish his sentence, “and we’ll let you know once he finds the murder weapon.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To Marco’s surprise, David returned not only with Olivier, but with another young man as well, who was none other than Héctor Bellerín. Marco had seen his photos in the case files of Andrei Abramovich’s murder but had to admit that Héctor looked even younger and more innocent in person. He gave David a questioning look, who shrugged and turned to look at Olivier.

 

“Héctor here has some interesting information for us,” said Olivier smugly, “Why don’t you go ahead kid?”

 

“I know both Thomas and Professor Löw very well,” said Héctor, whose German was surprisingly good. “I could vouch for Professor Löw that he’s not the murderer.”

 

“For heaven’s sake Olivier,” cried Marco exasperatedly, “please tell me you haven’t told…”

 

“I also know,” said Héctor hastily before Olivier could even reply, “that Thomas and Professor Löw have been working on a big project that might get some people into trouble.”

 

Both Marco and David stopped dead on their tracks. “What kind of project were they working on and who could get into trouble?” asked Marco incredulously.

 

“I don’t know the details,” said Héctor defeatedly. “I’m not on the project after all. I only know it because Thomas let slip one day when he was drunk. It was something about money laundering. Thomas told me that he believed that there was a major crime organisation in Dortmund and this case could be the key to cracking it.”

 

“So that’s why they killed him and tried to frame Löw,” said David with badly concealed excitement, “And it would make sense that Van Gaal is involved. He’s an economics professor after all. If they want to make the money laundering work, they need someone with the expertise. Too bad Thomas didn’t tell you more about it. Do you know anyone else who might know more about this project?”

 

“Yes,” said Héctor slowly, “Cristiano Ronaldo, the visiting professor from Spain. He was somehow involved in the project. But unfortunately, he left for Russia last Thursday and won’t return for a week.”

 

“That’s why they picked this weekend to kill Thomas,” murmured Marco, “By the time Cristiano is back, it might be too late already.”

 

“My thoughts precisely,” said Olivier smugly. “We’re not going to let this happen though. Now I think we should pursue this in secret. We should be able to persuade this Cristiano to come back from Russia several days earlier. As long as the murder weapon is not found, we can’t formally detain Löw so we should…”

 

“It’s already too late,” said David with a pained voice, “I’ve asked Joe to look for the murder weapon. Believe me, he will find it soon enough.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The drive back wasn’t a fun one. Olivier was clearly furious that David had told Kehli about the murder weapon. David, on the other hand, remained convinced that he did nothing wrong by following the rules. Marco was deeply thankful that he was the one driving so he didn’t have to suffer too much of the sulking of either of them.

 

Once they were back in the CID, they found that Löw had already left. 

 

“We had to let him go,” explained Kehli, “There was no reason to detain him until we have further proof. İlkay and Mesut are working on the final autopsy to make sure there was no other possible cause of death. Shinji and Erik are working on the fingerprints and DNA analysis. I don’t think it’s really going to help if the murderer is someone from that department but anyway.”

 

“Has Joe found anything yet?” asked David quickly.

 

“No, not yet. He phoned me about an hour ago telling me that he was outside Daniella Löw’s parents’ house. Haven’t heard anything from him since.”

 

In return, they told Kehli the discoveries of their little excursion that afternoon. Kehli listened intently and when they had finished, he sighed, “This is looking more and more like a frame-up. Personally, I don’t see Löw killing anyone let alone one of his favourite students. But so far everything points towards him. We have to get in contact with Cristiano Ronaldo. Why the hell is he in Russia?”

 

“I’ll go and see if I can get in touch with him now,” offered David immediately. Judging by the urgency in his tone, Marco realised that David did feel guilty about telling Kehli about the murder weapon, no matter what he had told Olivier.

 

An hour later, Kehli called everyone to the meeting room. “Joe had just phoned. He’s found it. He should be back in 10 minutes. Let’s have dinner and talk about what we’ve found so far.”

 

When Joe got back, dinner was ready. Joe looked completely exhausted, with his hair ruffled and his uniform rumpled. David was by his side the second Joe appeared and was checking over him like a mother hen. Everyone else however, was focusing on the baseball bat in the evidence bag.

 

“Can we be sure this is the murder weapon?” asked Olivier skeptically, “it could just be an ordinary baseball bat.”

 

“I’ve actually examined it,” said Joe, as he disengaged himself gently from David, “it was slightly cracked at the top, indicating that it was used to hit something hard. The crack was not obvious so the object being hit couldn’t be that solid. Of course, we have to run DNA analysis on it to know for sure but I think it is the murder weapon.”

 

“Where did you find this?” asked Mesut.

 

“In the bush outside Daniela Löw’s parent’s house. It’s quite well hidden there. Took me a while to actually find it.”

 

Kehli turned to look at Erik and Shinji, “How long will it take you lads to finish the fingerprint analysis and DNA profiling on it?”

 

“For the preliminary results, a couple days at most,” answered Erik confidently.

 

“Have you managed to get in touch with Cristiano Ronaldo?” asked Marco and the question was directed towards David.

 

“I’ve tried,” sighed David, “I’ve phoned him several times using the number Héctor gave me. He wasn’t picking up. I left him several voicemails and text messages to explain the urgency of the situation. I hope he gets back to us soon. In the meantime, I’ve done some research on him and the case Löw and Thomas could potentially be working on.”

 

“How?” asked Erik incredulously.

 

“I had cracked Müller’s laptop before I left,” said Joe proudly, “I reckoned David would like to see the information in it.”

 

“And I haven’t found much on this project to be honest,” said David frowning, “Müller had done a lot of research on money laundering, its mechanism, past case studies, etc. I’ve also found some data he had collected about some transactions to and from foreign bank accounts. At the first glance, I couldn’t find anything fishy about those. It doesn’t seem like Müller had found any real proof either. I believe this project is still at the early stage.”

 

“That’s why they had to kill him now,” cried Olivier, thumping his fist on the desk, “Müller and Löw probably didn’t know who were involved at this point but those people do. So they had to silence Müller and Löw now so this money laundering business could never be traced to them.”

 

“Is it possible to find out who is involved in the money laundering with the information Müller has gathered?” asked Kehli to no one in particular.

 

“It’s almost impossible,” said David, “I’ve worked on several money laundering cases before. Unless you have an insider to tip you off at the placement stage, it’s very hard to crack down those cases. Most of the success stories are the results of a lucky accident. If we really want to try to solve it, we need help from an expert.”

 

“Which we don’t have at the moment,” said Kehli bitterly. “They never thought it was worth hiring someone like that because Dortmund is not important enough for them.”

 

“Maybe,” Marco opened his mouth but stopped himself almost right away.

 

“Maybe what?” asked İlkay impatiently.

 

“It’s just… Never mind.”

 

“You know,” said İlkay sarcastically, “this really explained everything, Marco. Thanks for being so clear.”

 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Olivier, on the other hand, was rather excited. “Your new bloke Lewy could be the perfect one to help us.”

 

“Olivier…” said David in an exasperated tone and Olivier fired up at once. “Why not?! We are in desperate need of help and he could help us. We have to clear Löw’s name and find the real murder. So what if this Lewy’s not an employer here. Now it’s not the time to worry about your petty rules David!” 

 

Marco stepped in before David and Olivier could have another row again, “That was what I was thinking but I don’t think it’s a good idea. We know nothing about Lewy at this point and we don’t know if we can trust him. I think we should try to find an expert in finance and maybe Lewy is the perfect choice. But we have to do it properly.”

 

“But..” Olivier opened his mouth but he was interrupted by Kehli, “Marco is right. We cannot simply bring anyone into the CID without proper background check and everything. We will do our due diligence on Lewy. For now, let’s focus on what we can do: find Cristiano and find out if that bloody bat is the murder weapon.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter has taken a while. 
> 
> I'm trying to show the differences between David and Olivier. I have to admit that when I write David, I've borrowed some characterisation of Hermione. He's loyal, smart, perceptive but very serious and very keen on following the rules. Of course he's not as bossy as Hermione, well, maybe only in some circumstances lol.
> 
> Olivier on the other hand, is very different. He doesn't really care for the rules and only sees them as a means to an end. This might bring some major conflicts later on.


	19. Case 2 - The Past Will Always Haunt You But Never Give Up Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team was trying their best to clear Jogi's name. Lewy was trying to help. Marco got a glimpse into Lewy's past.

After dinner, everyone was ready to go back to work before Kehli stopped them. “Everyone should go home. We’re not going to work over time for this, not until we’ve made contact with Cristiano Ronaldo anyway.”

 

Thinking that he might check with Lewy before they did a background check on him, Marco texted Lewy. “Do u have time 4 a drink 2nte?”

 

Lewy’s reply came within 5 seconds. “Of course. When and where?”

 

So half an hour later, Marco was sitting at the bar with Lewy, who was still wearing his suit. “How much do you know about financial crimes like money laundering?” asked Marco in a casually curious tone.

 

“Quite a lot actually,” answered Lewy evenly, “It’s part of my job really, which is to inspect the financial standings of my clients. Why? The police needs some help in that area?”

 

Marco shrugged, “Just asking. I want to know more about you. But we might at some point.” 

 

“If you need me for anything, just let me know,” said Lewy with a warm smile, “I can’t guarantee that I will be able to solve all the problems but I’ll try my best.” 

 

Marco couldn’t help but return Lewy’s smile. They ended up spending a good 15 seconds smiling stupidly at each other until the barman coughed, “Hmm, anyone likes another drink?”

 

“Right,” said Lewy a little flustered, “One more beer for us each please,” and changed the subject to football. “So, what do you think of Dortmund’s chances this new season?”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marco arrived at the CID in reasonably good spirit. Of course they still had a murder case to work on, but Lewy had agreed to help them if necessary. 

 

“You look pretty pleased with yourself Marco,” said İlkay casually as he drifted into the office, “Did you finally get some last night?”

 

“Oh for heaven’s sake İlkay!” cried Marco while İlkay sniggered.

 

“Stop teasing Marco,” said Shinji and handed İlkay his morning coffee.

 

“Has anyone heard anything from Ronaldo yet?” asked Erik, who had just walked into the office, his hair floppy and messy. Marco quirked an eyebrow, “What’s up with your hair?”

 

“Oh,” Erik blushed a little and combed his hand through his hair almost subconsciously, “I was in a hurry this morning and didn’t get time to fix it.”

 

“Oh Erik Erik Erik,” said İlkay in a sing-song voice, “So young and naive. It’s time to introduce you to the real world!”

 

“The real world?” repeated Erik sounding thoroughly confused.

 

“Yes, the real world,” nodded İlkay solemnly, “where you will discover the dark secrets behind our glamour. You will soon realise that we are not born with perfect hair, that our handsome good looks are more than the gift of god and actually require a little bit of time. But fear not my young Erik, I, your most trusted friend, hold the secret to a 5-minute routine to near perfection.”

 

“What’s the matter with him?” Marco asked Shinji, ignoring Erik’s pleading looks.

 

Shinji shrugged, “Kehli forbad us to work last night on the case remember? You know what İlkay’s like when he’s not allowed to work on a case. He has to get it out somehow.”

 

Lucky for Erik, David’s arrival brought an end to İlkay’s little improvisation. “Ronaldo has just called me. He’s still in Moscow but he said that he will be shorten his trip. He will be back to Dortmund Thursday afternoon.”

 

While David was spending his time researching about the project Thomas and Jogi were working on, everyone else was working on the forensics. It didn’t take them too long to find what they needed.

 

“The baseball bat is the murder weapon. It contains DNA from Thomas Müller,” said Erik during their afternoon meeting. 

 

“Any fingerprints on the bat?” asked Kehli.

 

“No. It’s been wiped clean and there’s nothing on it,” said Shinji, “The attacker must be wearing gloves.”   

 

Kehli sighed and took a deep breath, “We have to bring Löw. He’s the only suspect we’ve got. I know I know,” he raised his voice slightly at the indignant look on Olivier’s face, “personally I don’t think he’s the real murderer either. But we cannot ignore the evidence in front of us. We have to work according to the protocols. I’ll bring him in and he will stay in the CID until we can find further evidence to suggest otherwise.”

 

“I’d say sod the protocol and do the right thing,” muttered Olivier and nobody bothered to correct him.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Jogi arrived at the CID at around dinner time, looking pale but quite calm. Kehli showed him to the interview room courteously and said, “I’m really sorry for this Professor Löw. But we need to interview you further on this case because some new evidence has been found. We may not be able to finish the interview tonight and we would like you to stay here for the night. It’s for the case and for your protection. Is that okay with you?”

 

Jogi looked at them and seemed to take comfort in their kind expressions. He swallowed hard and nodded, “Of course it’s fine. I will stay here and do everything I can to help you.”

 

“We really appreciate your help professor,” said Kehli, feeling genuinely sorry about the situation, “I promise that we will release you within 48 hours unless we can formalise a charge against you or we feel your safety might be in danger.”

 

Since Kehli only asked Olivier and Shinji to attend the interview with him, everyone else left to finish their work. Marco could notice that David was not quite himself. He kept fidgeting and looking at the direction of the interview room. Even Joe’s soothing hands failed to work its magic this time.

 

“What’s the matter David?” asked Marco finally. He had never seen David so unsettled before.

 

“I just… Well, I don’t know… It’s just…” David hesitated and looked almost helplessly at Joe. 

 

“Don’t worry cariño,” said Joe as he wrapped his long arms around David’s petite frame, “Whatever you want to say, you can say it to me.”

 

Marco noticed that everyone had actually stopped their work to eavesdrop but decided against mentioning it, as David finally looked at Joe and started speaking, “I’ve just got this feeling that something is going to go wrong. I feel that this whole thing is much bigger than a murder or money laundering case. I don’t know if we’re doing the right thing here.”

 

“Listen to me David,” said Joe very seriously, “You’re not god. You cannot predict the future. We’re doing everything we can to figure this thing out. We just need to keep doing our job and hope that we get a little bit of luck.”

 

“Joe’s right,” said Mesut quietly, “You take too much on yourself sometimes David. You did the right thing. You always do. Sometimes we simply can’t control other things and we just need to face that.”

 

David seemed to feel a little better after this. But when Marco met Mesut’s eyes, he could tell that they shared the same thought: David was right. Their instincts were telling them the same thing. Something was not right.

 

An hour later, Olivier and İlkay came out of the room and were immediately bombarded with questions. 

 

“What do you think?” 

“What did Löw say about the baseball bat?” 

“Does he have any motives?”

 

İlkay shook his head, “If he’s the murderer, I’ll eat Roman’s precious cat. As a matter of fact, I’ve always wanted to do that and now is the perfect opportunity. Roman is in Diez now so he can’t do anything about it!” İlkay’s grin could only be described as evil and Marco rolled his eyes, “It’s strange that you should have that as a specific ambition.”

 

“Anyway, what makes you so convinced that Löw is not the murderer?” asked Erik curiously.

 

“For one thing, when we showed him the baseball bat, he blurted out that it was the one he lost a couple week ago. I mean, who volunteers that sort of information? He’s either really stupid, which he’s not obviously, or completely innocent that he didn’t even think of hiding any information. Of course, there was the possibility that he was completely spooked when he saw our dearest Pascal.” İlkay grinned maliciously at Olivier, who didn’t seem to feel guilty at all.

 

“Have you asked him how he lost the baseball bat? Was Van Gaal there?” asked David eagerly.

 

“Of course we asked him,” said Olivier, sounding somewhat offended. Marco cast a quick glance at David and saw that he was frowning and chewing his lips. Joe moved infinitesimally closer to David. “He said that the he lost it during one of his games a couple weeks ago. He usually brings two bats to the game just in case. After the game was over, he realised that the spare bat was gone. He didn’t think too much of it. There was no one from his department at the game that day. We’ve got the names of some attendees and we can check with them to see if Van Gaal was there that day.”

 

“So we have to keep him here even though it’s highly unlikely that he’s the killer,” concluded Mesut for everyone, “Well, that’s a freaking shame.”

 

“We will take turns to interview him tomorrow,” said Kehli, “see what everyone thinks. Once Ronaldo is here, we will interview him and hopefully that will clear Löw’s name. Oh and Pascal,” everyone sniggered and Olivier answered with a cheerful ‘Yes’, “next time you decide to act like a complete git as you really are, I will personally kill you and hack up your body.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next day, everyone took turns to interview Jogi. By the time it was Marco’s turn, it was already mid afternoon. As he walked into the interview room, he could tell that Jogi was exhausted. When he looked up however, Jogi still managed a weak smile. Marco couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

 

“I’m sorry professor,” said Marco sympathetically, “I know you must be tired but I have to do my job.”

 

“I understand,” said Jogi politely, “I do hope that I can help find the real murderer of Thomas.”

 

“Of course, Now,” Marco’s tone changed to a business-like one and Jogi sat up a little straighter, “when did you last see Thomas?”

 

After an hour of non-stop questioning, Marco felt that he couldn’t find any reason in him to believe that Jogi had really committed this horrible crime. He sighed as he walked out of the interview room, almost straight into André.

 

“Watch out Marco!”

 

“Sorry André,” apologised Marco, “didn’t see you there.”

 

“Are you alright?” asked André looking a bit concerned.

 

“Not really,” Marco shook his head desperately, “have you ever experienced a situation where you know that someone’s innocent but couldn’t do anything about it?”

 

“It’s about the Müller murder isn’t it?” said André sympathetically, “I’ve read about it on the newspaper. They’re even hinting that his professor, this Jogi Löw, might be the killer.”

 

“You know those reporters,” spat Marco, “they just want a good story. As a matter of fact, I thought Woj was supposed to be reporting on cases like this.”

 

“He didn’t write the story this time. It was someone else. Rumour has it that he had wanted to keep it quiet for your sake and that really pissed his editor off. So he’s been shunned aside to report on some food safety issues at an elementary school, or something like that.”

 

“Brilliant,” muttered Marco darkly, “just what we need now.”

 

“But anyway,” said André encouragingly, “you can’t detain someone for more than 48 hours unless you have substantial proof, which as we all know, has some wiggle room. I’m sure this professor Löw will be out in no time.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what we’re banking on actually. Hopefully he will be out tomorrow. Why brings you here by the way?”

 

“I’m afraid I’m bringing more bad news,” André made a face and Marco’s heart sank. “We were out on patrol duty today. There was a minor accident on E41. Anyway, the girl in the accident told us that she was rushing to see her friend because she hadn’t heard from her for several days and was really worried. So Marcel gave her our contact information just in case she needed to report something. She had just called us to report a potential missing person case for her friend. Here’s her information.”

 

“Scheiße!” Marco cursed loudly, “We have to send someone there to investigate. Thanks a lot André. I’ll take care of that.”

 

“Hang in there Marco!” André patted Marco on the shoulder and left.

 

Marco thought for a moment as to who should be the best person to go. He thought David or Olivier would probably be the best but anyone with eyes could see the tension between the two. Maybe Olivier and Mesut. In any case, Olivier would be better off working on a different case. He was too emotionally invested in the current one to think objectively. Having made up his mind, Marco went to find Olivier and Mesut.

 

It didn’t take him too long to find them in Mesut’s laboratory, along with everyone else except Erik, who was interviewing Jogi. Olivier was talking, “... told me that she hasn’t seen Van Gaal at any point of the game. Her testimony was corroborated by the security guard. So I have to conclude that Van Gaal wasn’t there in person. He must have an accomplice.”

 

“We cannot even be sure of Van Gaal’s involvement, Olivier,” said David wearily, “You can’t make statement like this without real evidence.” 

 

Before Olivier could retort back, Mesut put a hand on his thigh and spoke instead, “We have ruled out all other possibilities of cause of death. Müller was perfectly healthy and died from the blow to his head. The final autopsy report is ready.”

 

“What about the DNA profiling and fingerprints analysis at the crime scene?” asked Kehli.

 

“Nothing meaningful came up,” replied Shinji, “It’s got fingerprints and DNA of people you would expect to be there, Müller, Löw, Van Gaal, Toni Kroos, Héctor Bellerín, some other professors, Gertrude Frantz. Nothing from the crime scene matches the data from INTERPOL criminal database. It’s done by someone in the department.” 

 

“So it’s either Löw or Van Gaal. And right now, all the evidence is pointing towards Löw,” said İlkay, looking unusually grim. 

 

“What’s matter, Marco?” asked Joe, as he noticed the peculiar look on Marco’s face.

 

“Well, I hate to say this but I’m afraid we have another case. Some girl has reported that her friend could be missing. We need to send someone to investigate and that’s why I came looking for Olivier and Mesut.” 

 

Olivier and Mesut exchanged a quick look and said in unison, “Sure.” Kehli nodded and looked a bit overwhelmed. 

 

After Olivier and Mesut had left, Marco grabbed David by the elbow, “Have you made any more progress on the project Müller and Löw were working on?”

 

David shook his head and sighed, “No, not really. To be honest, Müller was horrible at documenting his thoughts. Most of his notes are scattered and incoherent. And the data he had didn’t make much sense to me either. I have actually asked Kehli to speed up the background check on your Lewy. We really need some professional help here.”

 

“David,” said Marco hesitantly, “is everything alright between…”

 

“Everything’s fine,” interjected David with a finality in his voice. Marco had decided not to press on the matter. He figured that Joe and Mesut would sort this out if it really got out of hand. “Where is Kehli?”

 

“Talking to Woj,” said Joe who had just appeared next to David, closely followed by Erik who had finished his interview with Jogi, “I think he’s trying to contain the news coverage of this case.”

 

“Right,” said Erik, “I hope he has some luck on that. Anyway Joe, it’s your turn with the professor.”

 

It took them another three hours to finish interviewing Jogi. They had even asked Marcel to help out, since he wasn’t involved in the case and could provide some new insight into the current puzzle. But nobody could offer a reasonable explanation.

 

“It’s a mess,” said Marco in frustration.

 

“Do you know what could be worse?” said Olivier, who just came back to the CID, “Another case.”

 

“So it is a missing person case then?” asked Erik anxiously.

 

“The girl, Helga Engel, is certainly missing,” said Mesut darkly, “We managed to break into her flat. She hadn’t been home for quite a while. The neighbours said that the last time anyone saw her was last Friday night.”

 

“How can you be sure she is missing though?” asked Joe, “She could be on holiday.”

 

“For one thing, her laptop is still on,” said Olivier, “She didn’t even put it to sleep. She also had half-cooked food on the stove with the other ingredients on the counter. The wine glass on her desk still had some wine in it.”

 

“So basically she left her place in a hurry on Friday night with the intention of coming back soon,” concluded David. 

 

Mesut nodded, “I’ve brought her laptop back. Thought you might want to take a look. One more thing…” he hesitated before continuing, “One of the neighbours told us that she might be a prostitute.”

 

“A prostitute?”

 

“Okay, call girl might be a better term,” said Olivier, “As far as we know, Helga Engel is a university student. But this one neighbour told us that she might be doing some business on the side. She certainly has a very lavish lifestyle, even though she has no source of income. He has also seen her bringing different men into her flat late at night.”

 

“That’s why we suspect that she probably went out on business last Friday night and somehow didn’t returned,” said Mesut, “Hopefully the laptop contains some useful information.”

 

“I’ll take a look at it tonight,” said Joe.

 

“It can wait until tomorrow,” Kehli’s voice made them all jump, “I’ve just briefed Roman on the current situation. He needs to step in and he doesn’t want us to do anything until his return.”

 

“I thought he’s in Diez for this entire week,” said Shinji.

 

“He’s going to cut his holiday short and come back tonight,” said Kehli, “He will be in the office tomorrow. We should all go home and get a good night sleep. Tomorrow will be hectic and we should be ready for that.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Even though Marco knew he should head straight home and pass out, the sinking sensation in his stomach was getting stronger and stronger and he couldn’t fight the urge to talk to someone. After rummaging his mobile out of his pocket, Marco thought for a second about who he should phone. Mario was back in Munich so Marco ruled him out quickly. He decided to try Neven first.

 

It wasn’t Neven who picked up the call, “Hellooooo, this is Neven Subotić’s mobile but it is NOT Neven speaking.”

 

Marco actually tripped and ran headlong into a post upon hearing the familiar voice of Mario Balotelli. “Ouch! Scheiße!”

 

“Are you quite all right?” Mario’s sing-song voice came from the other end of the line as Marco was massaging his head.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” said Marco a little distractedly, “This is Marco, Marco Reus.”

 

“A-ha!” Mario suddenly sounded very enthusiastic, “Hello Marco! How’s your head?”

 

“M… my head?” repeated Marco rather stupidly, wondering how on earth Mario Balotelli could know that he just smacked his head on a very solid post.

 

“So it hasn’t improved then,” said Mario sympathetically, “I’ve told you that head trauma is a serious problem. You really should come back so I can sort you out.”

 

It took Marco all his self-control not to shout back at Mario Balotelli. Personally, he thought that the only possible outcome of him going back to see Mario Balotelli was either a potential murder, or his admission to a mental asylum. Marco took a deep breath and said, “Actually, I’m phoning Neven. Where is he and why do you have his mobile.”

 

“Oh that,” said Mario sounding a little surprised, “Well, Neven’s in the middle of a surgical operation so I just picked up his calls. Actually, it’s a funny story…” Before Mario could elaborate on this funny story, Marco hung up resolutely without even saying goodbye.

 

His next call to Mats went straight to voicemail. Marco sighed and decided to try his luck one last time.

 

“Hey Marco, what’s up?” Lewy’s cheerful voice finally brought a smile to Marco’s face.

 

“Hey Lewy, I know it’s sort of late but I’m just wondering if I can talk to you. Of course, if you’re busy then don’t worry. I don’t want to...”

 

“No problem,” said Lewy before Marco could finish his rambling, “Give me 10 minutes to finish what I’m doing and I’ll meet you wherever you want.”

 

Half an hour later, they were sitting in the same coffee shop frequented by Marco and his friends. Lewy looked tired but his smile was as warm as ever. “So what’s the matter Marco?”

 

“I just…” Marco hesitated. If it were up to him, he would probably tell Lewy the whole story about the case but he knew he couldn’t. He was a police officer after all and he had his obligations. Lewy didn’t push him but waited patiently for Marco to gather his thoughts. “I just feel so helpless sometimes. It’s like when you know something is wrong but you have to go with it because there’s nothing else you can do. Have you ever experienced something like that?”

 

To Marco’s surprise, Lewy didn’t answer him immediately. His smile had vanished and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts. Marco held his breath and forgot about his own problem temporarily, as he realised that this was the closest he’d ever got to knowing the real Lewy.

 

“Yes, I do know that feeling very well,” said Lewy solemnly after a long pause. “I have once lost someone very dear to me and there was nothing I could do. When I lost her, I was still young and I knew that I couldn’t have stopped it. So I accepted the fact but swore to God that I will find justice for her. That was what had motivated me to work hard. But once I was old enough to know the real world, I came to realise that sometimes justice couldn’t be done, no matter how unfair it might be.” 

 

Lewy’s expression was dark and dangerous. Marco gulped and opened his mouth tentatively, almost a bit scared, “Have, have we failed you?”

 

Lewy gave Marco a long look before his expression softened, “No, you have not failed me. In fact, I had the same feeling that you have now. I knew the truth but I didn’t have enough proof. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. The person I talked in the police department was very sympathetic. But he cannot override the rules and arrest someone simply because of my words. Just like you can’t ignore the evidence and do the right thing according to your intuition. That’s the reality, sad but true.”

 

“When I joined the CID, I thought I was going to help bring justice. But the longer I’ve worked there, the more I realise that justice is not absolute. It cannot exist on its own. It’s bound by so many other things and it’s frustrating sometimes,” said Marco defeatedly.

 

“So are you going to quit your job then?” asked Lewy almost jokingly.

 

“Of course not,” said Marco indignantly, “Who do you think I am? I’m not going to quit simply because of this.”

 

“Exactly,” said Lewy and his piercing blue eyes were fixed on Marco, “Because you’re a fighter Marco. You don’t look it but I know you. You have your beliefs and your dreams and you hold on to them. You’re not going to give up even when it seems like all hopes are gone. You will try your best again and again because that’s who you are.”

 

Marco looked at Lewy and suddenly felt light. Lewy was right. He would solve this case or he would die trying. But he certainly wasn’t going to give up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be pretty dramatic. Hopefully I can finish this case in the next chapter or two. As you can probably see, Case 3 is starting and will be addressed in details once I wrap up Case 2.


	20. Case 2 - Life is Hard and Unfair Sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case of Thomas' death took a dramatic turn, which left the team at the CID in a tricky position. The team didn't give up though and they were trying to find out the truth.

Marco woke the next day with new motivations and fresh energy for his work. He felt fairly optimistic about this case now. Roman would be back today to make a decision. Cristiano would be here to testify in favour of Löw. He might even provide more information on the project. Marco felt confident that the Löw’s name would be cleared in no time.

 

The moment he walked into the CID however, he knew something was wrong. One side of the office was taped off and people that Marco didn’t recognise were walking in and out of the office. Everyone from to the CID had gathered around the hallway, looking extremely grim. Marco hurried to meet them. “What on earth is going on here?”

 

After a long silence, Kehli finally broke it, “Jogi Löw is dead.”

 

Marco was quite thankful he wasn’t holding anything at the moment. Otherwise, he would have dropped it along with his jaw. “De… dead? As in…”

 

“Yes, dead,” said Kehli impatiently, “As in not alive any more.”

 

“But how?”

 

“It appears to be suicide,” said David gravely. Olivier snorted very audibly but David continued valiantly, “Preliminary inspection showed that he died of cyanide poisoning.” 

 

“How is this suicide then?” asked Marco incredulously, “Someone must have given Löw the poison.”

 

“He could have brought the poison himself. We didn’t check for poison when Löw first came here,” said David in a defeated tone, “He also left a note saying that he had killed himself because he felt ashamed of killing his student.”

 

“He what?” Marco almost jumped into the air in surprise. He simply couldn’t believe it.

 

“Here’s a picture of Löw’s suicide note,” said Erik in a very subdued voice as he handed the printed picture to Marco. The note wasn’t too long but Marco could tell from the untidy handwriting that Jogi must have written it when he was in great pain.

 

_My dear friends and family, I’m writing this note as my last words to this world. Undoing the past is never possible but I wish I could because I’m deeply ashamed of what I’ve done. Rest in Peace Thomas, for I have failed your trust. Demons had possessed me. Even now, I could not explain the madness I had experienced that night. Raw jealousy was the only thing I felt then. But none of these could be my excuse for committing such a terrible crime. Let me suffer the physical pains I’ve experienced. Only that could ease the suffering of my conscience. Nevertheless, the punishments I’ve received could not bring Thomas back to life, nor could it be enough to redeem my soul. Death is my only way out and I’m taking my own life with the hope that justice will be done and I will be judged in the greatest court of all._

 

“What was he talking about?” asked Marco after he finished reading the notes, “What punishments? Why was he in pain?”

 

The little blood that remained on Kehli’s face was now completely gone. “In the initial examination of the body, they’ve also found bruises caused by repeated beating of a long rod-like object, such as a baton.”

 

It took Marco a good minute before he found his voice, “They think we tortured him?! They think that’s part of the reasons why he killed himself?”

 

“Löw was definitely tortured before his death,” said Joe, his usual gaiety gone. “Those bruises on his back are not something that Löw can cause himself. He was locked in the retention room and didn’t have access to anything that could potentially be used as a weapon. Someone with access to that room must have tortured him. We just don’t know who.”

 

“We have to go find out then,” cried Marco. “We can’t just sit here doing nothing!”

 

“Honestly Marco,” said David wearily, “do you really think they’re going to let us work on this case? We’re all possible suspect here! We’re off this case! In fact, we’re all suspended until further questioning.”

 

“I think we should keep working on this anyway,” said Olivier in a low voice and everyone gathered a bit closer. “Someone has planned this and they have infiltrated us. I personally trust all of you so we need to beat them at this. Sod the protocols. We’ve followed them long enough. They’re playing dirty and we have to change our strategies if we want to win this round.”

 

“Olivier you can’t simply ignore the protocols and do whatever the hell you want,” said David exasperatedly, “We’re not allowed to…” His sentence was interrupted by a violent outburst from Olivier.

 

“Oh of course, little Mr Perfect will follow the rules. Tell me David, have you ever done anything without consulting the protocols? Of course not! You will follow them even if it means sacrificing justice and risking the lives of others.”

 

“Olivier please,” pleaded Mesut but Olivier had ignored him completely, “You don’t care about anything else except those precious rules and being a good boy! So what if Löw was killed? As long as Mr I-know-what’s-best-for-everyone Silva hasn’t put a toe out of line, everything is perfect.”

 

“That’s enough Olivier!” said Joe angrily, as David’s face had turned ashen grey at those hurtful words. But Olivier seemed unstoppable. He laughed mirthlessly at Joe, “God Joe, does David make you follow his rules at home? Does he even boss you around when he’s having sex with you? I don’t know how you stand him but I certainly can’t! But I’m not the one you have to answer to. Answer to Löw who had just died because of you!”

 

“Stop it Olivier!” screamed Mesut and he was shaking from head to toe, from anger or frustration Marco couldn’t tell. This had finally seemed to bring Olivier back to reality. He looked around and saw everyone gaping at him. David’s face was chalk white and he was swaying on the spot. Joe was standing right next to him, his shoulder tense and his fists clenched. Olivier seemed to regret his loss of temper but he stared at David defiantly.

 

“I never…” said David in a small broken voice and Marco could see the tears in his eyes, “I’m sorry. Löw, I just…”

 

“That’s enough!” Roman’s booming voice sounded from behind and everyone turned to look at him. He had apparently witnessed the whole conversation, as his eyebrows were so knitted together that Marco wonder if they would ever be separated again. “This is not anyone’s fault. We’ve done everything we could but there are circumstances beyond our controls. David, stop blaming yourself. You’ve done nothing wrong. Olivier, stop blaming your teammates. What we need to do now is to find a solution.”

 

“Can we still work on this case?” asked İlkay eagerly.

 

“Not now,” sighed Roman, “They’ve just cleared me because I have a strong alibi and haven’t been working on the case. Jürgen is also involved because this is getting out of hands. We’ll try to do damage control here and will keep you updated. But as of right now, you’ll all be subject to questioning and even after you’re cleared, I doubt you can work on the death of Löw.”

 

“But who’s going to work on it then?” asked Shinji.

 

“They’re bringing help from Herdecke police. Benedikt is leading the team. I believe we should have preliminary results by the end of the day today.”

 

“So what can we do? Are we supposed to believe that Löw really killed himself and drop the case?” asked Erik in frustration.

 

“Not entirely,” said Roman slowly. He looked around to make sure no one was listening and then said in a low whisper, “I think it’s time for us to bypass some protocols. I believe we have a leak inside the Dortmund police and we have to find him. I trust every one of you and Jürgen of course but I cannot vouch for anyone else. Go talk to Ronaldo. I’ve also cleared the background check on Lewandowski. If you need his help, ask him. That friend of yours, Alexis Sánchez, get him involved too. I’ll try to smuggle out the security video footage from last night. But don’t let anyone else know about this. Understood?”

 

For the next three hours, each one of them was questioned by Benedikt and his team. 

 

“So Marco,” said Benedikt in a business like voice, “could you tell us where you were last night?”

 

“Sure,” said Marco calmly, “after I left the CID, I went to see a friend of mine, Robert Lewandowski. We met at a coffee shop and stayed there until its closing time.”

 

“When was that?” asked Julian Draxler, a cheerful young officer from the Herdecke police whom Marco had always liked.

 

“It was around 2:15 am,” said Marco thinking hard, “Their usual closing time is 2 am but I know the owner so he let us stay a bit longer.”

 

Julian and Benedikt exchanged a quick look before saying, “Excellent, could you give me the contact information of this Robert Lewandowski and the coffee shop owner?”

 

Half an hour later, Julian came back and smiled at Marco, “Both of them confirmed the information you’ve just provided. You’re free to go, Marco.”

 

“Can I help you on this case then?” asked Marco eagerly as he rose from his seat.

 

Julian seemed to be thinking about Marco’s offer but Benedikt spoke first, “I’m afraid not Marco. We’ve received strict order not to let anyone from your team work on the case. They take this very seriously. Sorry about that.”

 

When Marco got back to the office, he found Woj coming out of Roman’s office, looking defeated. “Woj, what are you doing here?”

 

“To try to see if we can manage the news coverage on this,” said Roman heavily as he came out of his office too. “Unfortunately that’s not quite possible.”

 

“My boss, Samuel Eto'o, insisted on maximum news coverage of the story. He wouldn’t even let me write it because he didn’t want to make the Dortmund police look good,” said Woj resentfully.

 

“Why?” asked Erik.

 

Woj shrugged, “You know those editors. They just want a gripping story. They don’t really care if they’re reporting the truth, as long as they can sell their papers.”

 

“Listen,” said Roman seriously, “None of you can work on the case of Löw. So I’m giving you all a day off, except Olivier, Joe, and Mesut because they are working on the disappearance case.” 

 

“Why can’t we work on that case at least? They definitely need our help,” said İlkay and Marco knew that İlkay hated the feeling of not doing anything.

 

Roman sighed, “It will be best for you lot to stay away from any cases at the moment. Marcel will help them if necessary.”

 

“But who’s going to do the patrol duty then? Surely André will need a hand,” protested Shinji and İlkay nodded vigorously in agreement. 

 

“We hired Diego, remember? He’s really competent. A bit over-enthusiastic if you ask me, volunteering to work after hours and such. But hey, who am I to judge? He’s probably the most organised person I’ve ever met. I’m even thinking of asking him to help out on the missing person case. Anyway, this is all for your protection.” Roman looked around carefully and said in a low whisper, “Go find David. I’m sure you’ll use your day off well.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Half an hour later, everyone except Joe, Olivier, and Mesut were gathered around at David and Joe’s flat. David was still very white but he seemed a bit calmer now. Marco wondered if David still blamed himself for Löw’s death. Before he could ask David though, Alexis and Mats’ arrival distracted everyone.

 

“What are you doing here Mats?” asked Marco in disbelief.

 

“Roman told me to come and help,” Mats shrugged, “I suppose we’re ignoring protocols completely now, aren’t we? Roman must be desperate.”

 

“Apparently he is. Here, this is the security footage of last night,” said İlkay as he handed a USB drive to Alexis, “Roman smuggled it out from right under Benedikt’s nose. Can you take a look and see what it contains?”

 

As Alexis was working on the footage, everyone else was discussing the case.

 

“The autopsy showed that Löw died from cyanide poisoning at around 1 am last night, give or take 30 minutes,” said Mats and everyone except Marco looked at him doubtfully.

 

“How on earth do you know that?” said Erik in disbelief. “We don’t even know that!”

 

“Well, Benedikt told me,” said Mats in a perfect poker face. The look on İlkay’s face said plainly that he didn’t buy this at all and Marco could hardly blame him. But he understood why. Benedikt was normally a very disciplined officer but if he had one weak spot, it was Mats. Marco never really understood the true nature of their relationship, but he suspected that Benedikt had nursed romantic feelings for Mats for quite some time. Whether Mats returned those feelings was a different matter though. 

 

“What did he say about the bruises?” asked Shinji.

 

“It was definitely caused by someone else,” said Mats, “he couldn’t find unnatural bending of Löw’s arms. It had caused pain and some damage but not enough to kill Löw.”

 

“Is there a way to tell if Löw took the poison voluntarily or not?” asked Woj, thinking hard.

 

“It would seem to be the case,” said Mats, “Benedikt said that they couldn’t find any sign of struggle in the room. The handwriting of the suicide notes is confirmed to be Löw’s. They’re still doing DNA profiling and fingerprint analysis, but it’s not going to be much help if the one who tortured Löw is one of the officers.”

 

“And there was no sign of forced entry?” asked İlkay frowning, “This is really suspicious. Only those within the CID have the key to that room.”

 

“Someone could have forged the key though,” said David finally, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, “I think we can almost be certain that the torturer or murderer is from within the police department. But someone from outside the CID could duplicate a key to that room.”

 

“So we can really only rely on the security footage,” concluded Erik.

 

They all waited patiently for Alexis to finish his analysis and to their surprise, they didn’t have to wait long.

 

“Someone has turned the system off!” Alexis angry yell made them all look up.

 

“So there was no footage?” asked Erik quickly.

 

“No, none whatsoever! It was turned off from 12:30 am to 2:30 am last night. It was turned off!” cried Alexis again, as if he was quite offended by this fact. “They have no style whatsoever! No finesse. Nothing. They just hacked into the system to shut it down. So crude!”

 

“It sounds pretty complicated to me,” muttered Erik.

 

“No, it’s not. It’s an insult to my intelligence!” said Alexis indignantly.

 

“That’s good, isn’t it?” said Marco, feeling the need to wipe some non-existent sweat from his forehead. Honestly, one İlkay was bad enough. They didn’t need another one. “So you can find out who hacked into the system?”

 

“If I have the log file of the system, yes. But I don’t.” 

 

“Roman only sent the footage of the retention room,” said David, “There was only so much he could do without losing his job.”

 

“I’ll talk to Benedikt.” Mats rose up from his seat to phone Benedikt.

 

“Is Mats…” Erik opened his mouth tentatively but Marco cut across him quickly, “They’re good friends. In any case, that’s Mats’ business.” 

 

Ten minutes later, Mats finished his conversation and opened his laptop. “Benedikt is sending me the server log now.”

 

“Now I can find out who did this. Shouldn’t take me too long.” said Alexis excitedly, “Where is Joe by the way? I thought he’d want to work on this case.”

 

“He’s working another case, some missing girl, along with Mesut and Olivier,” said David quickly. Marco could hear the longing tone in his voice and felt bad for David. He was indeed still blaming himself and Joe wasn’t here to comfort him. Just when he was thinking about saying something to David, David’s mobile rang.

 

“Hi David Silva speaking. Oh great. Listen Mr Ronaldo, there has been some new development with the case and we have to change the plan. Could you meet us at this address?” After he hung up, David looked at them and said, “Cristiano Ronaldo is coming.”

 

Cristiano Ronaldo, as it turned out, was a tall, dark, and extremely attractive man. In fact, he looked more like an underwear model than a professor. He clearly cared about his appearance very much, if the amount the hair gel he put on his hair was anything to go by. Everyone went to greet him but he stopped when he saw Mats.

 

“Mr Hummels?”

 

Everyone’s eyes turned to Mats. “You two know each other?” asked Marco incredulously.

 

“Well, professor Ronaldo is the friend of a client of mine,” said Mats in a very professional tone.

 

Suddenly it all clicked and Marco blurted out, “Irina Shayk!”

 

“What?” asked David, “What has Irina Shayk got to do with this case?”

 

“No, he’s the lover of Irina Shayk, Andrei Abramovich’s wife!” exclaimed Marco excitedly, “Is that why you went to Russia?”

 

Cristiano seemed rather embarrassed, “Well, I have been going out with Irina for a while. And yes, I did go to Russia for Irina. She has decided to move back to Russia now that she has the freedom to do so.”

“Why?” asked Erik curiously.

“Because she needs to get away from it all. Dortmund reminds her too much of her husband’s murder and all the nightmare she has gone through.”

“Can’t blame her,” said İlkay shrugging, “I wouldn’t want to live in the same city as my dead husband’s gay lover either.”

“What do you know about the project Müller and Löw were working on?” Marco asked the critical question.

 

“What do you know about the project Müller and Löw were working on?” Marco asked the critical question.

 

“Thomas was the one who came up with the idea. He was going through financial documents of several companies, you know, to find ideas about his dissertation topic. He came across some interesting transactions and suspected that they might be investments made by money launderers. Of course those were just preliminary results and he was doing more investigation into them. He had shown me those data and I have to admit, they do look suspicious. So I volunteered to help.”

 

“Do you know who would be the money launderer?”

 

“Not from the data we have. But I have a couple guesses and I’m monitoring the transactions now. What you’ve got to realise is that money laundering cases are extremely hard to tackle without insider information. So it’s not going to be solved overnight.”

 

“So we’re stuck then,” sighed David.

 

“What are the guesses you have?” asked Shinji sharply.

 

“I can’t tell you that!” cried Cristiano. “I can’t make such accusations without real proof.”

 

“Okay,” said David in a calming tone, “but could you tell us if you think professor Löw might have killed Müller?”

 

“No way,” said Cristiano without any hesitation, “Jogi was probably one of the nicest blokes I’ve ever met. There was no way he could kill anyone.”

 

“So what do you think about this note?” İlkay handed the picture of the suicide note to Cristiano, who frowned and read it carefully. 

 

“Something is not right,” he said slowly after reading the notes several times, “This is so different from Jogi’s usual style. He never writes like this.”

 

“Maybe he was in pain or scared because someone was trying to kill him,” suggested İlkay with no real conviction in his voice.

 

“I know Jogi. He was very clever. Not just academically, but in general. He was very knowledgeable about many different subjects. He was also quick-thinking and reacted well under pressure. I don’t think he would lose his mind, even when his life was in danger,” said Cristiano seriously, “I just couldn’t figure out what he was trying to tell us in this notes.”

 

After reading the notes several times, none of them had a clue what the hidden message was. Erik was the first to give up, “Whatever the message is, I have no idea. Moving on, under what circumstance do you think Löw would have killed himself voluntarily, even though he didn’t commit the murder.”

 

“If someone threatens his family or his close friends, Jogi would sacrifice himself,” Cristiano answered firmly without any hesitation.

 

“Okay, to summarise, someone hacked into the Dortmund police network to turn off the monitoring system. Then someone from the Dortmund police sneaked into the CID and used the key he duplicated to get into the retention room. He threatened Löw, probably with a gun, that he would kill Löw’s family and friends if Löw didn’t cooperate. The threat must have worked because Löw didn’t fight him at all. He then proceeded to beat Löw with a baton and made Löw write the suicide note. He forced Löw to take the poison himself and left after Löw was dead. The hacker then turned the monitoring system back on and everything had returned to normal,” said Marco without drawing breath.

 

“Sounds about right,” said David, “Is Alexis still working on the log files? It’s taking him a while.”

 

“That’s because whoever hacked into the police network is good,” said Alexis grumpily, “His IP address appears to be from Peru, but I think he had VPNed into another country to hide his real identity. It took me a while to track him down but I finally managed it. He was somewhere in Belgium.”

 

“Somewhere in Belgium?” asked David frowning, “Couldn’t you be a little bit more specific?”

 

“Look, I’m not NSA or FBI,” Alexis fired up at once, “I can’t ask the VPN company to turn over their log files. In any case, it seems like he might have written the VPN service himself instead of using a public one.”

 

“Is that possible?” asked İlkay.

 

“Of course it’s possibly,” said Alexis cuttingly, who seemed determined to be in a bad mood today, “I could have written one if I want to. It’s not something everyone can do, but definitely possible. This, combined with the encryption method he used, makes him pretty hard to track down.”

 

“And you thought this bloke was insulting your intelligence,” muttered Shinji. Alexis gave him a death look before saying, “The location is somewhere in Wallonia, possibly Hainaut.”

 

“Wallonia,” mused Mats out loud, “That’s interesting. Beatrix Guardiola mentioned someone from Wallonia in Belgium.”

 

“Beatrix Guardiola?” everyone asked in unison.

 

“Yes, Beatrix Guardiola,” said Mats calmly, “When I was interviewing her, she told me that she had contacted someone for help on creating a programme to bug Miss Costa’s Blackberry. When I probed a little deeper, she told me that this person was probably from Wallonia.”

 

“How could she know?” asked David skeptically, “Don’t tell me he told her.”

 

“No, but Beatrix Guardiola happens to be sort of an expert in linguistics and accents. She had a couple phone calls with him and they conversed in French. She could tell from his accent that he’s probably from Wallonia.”

 

“Bloody hell,” exclaimed İlkay, “If they are the same person…”

 

“Then we’re looking at something really serious here,” David finished the sentence for him. He turned to Alexis, “Is there anyway you can track this bloke down? It’s critical that we find him.”

 

Alexis said reluctantly, “I can try but to be honest, I’m not hopeful. From the algorithms he’s used, this chap is a total genius. Almost as good as I am.”

 

They all fell silent. This was their best hope of solving this case and the brightest computer genius was telling them that someone equally good was involved. Marco could tell from the dismayed faces around him that no one was feeling hopeful. Before they could decide what else to do, David’s mobile rang.

 

“It’s Kehli, we need you all to return to the office right now. We have a murder case now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I have to kill Jogi. It's all for the plot!
> 
> I'm afraid that you have to wait a while to find out who the real killer is. The next chapter will be the start of Case 3. But you're more than welcome to take a guess :)


	21. Case 3 - Secret Diary of A Call Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Case 2 had been closed for now, despite the protest of the team. Case 3 had started to unfold for real but it was the most difficult one so far.

“Honestly, can’t they take a break?” complained İlkay as they walked into the CID, “Why do all the criminals in the world have to be unleashed at the same time? Is there some sort of criminal summit we’ve missed?”

“Clearly,” said Kehli sarcastically. “Someone has found the body of a young girl in the backyard of a small chapel in the northern part of Dortmund. The gardener found her body when he was doing his weekly gardening. She was shot in the chest.”

“Do we know the identity of the victim?” asked İlkay.

“We immediately suspected that it might be Miss Engel. The body was badly decomposed and must be at least 5 days old. So it was hard to tell from her face. Poor Marcel, he almost got sick on Olivier. But she was wearing a cocktail dress and heels. The height and hair colour also check. Mesut is working on the autopsy. Why don’t you join him İlkay?”

“I’ll work on the DNA profiling,” volunteered Shinji and Kehli nodded his approval. “Olivier is interviewing Miss Engel’s friend. We’ll need someone to work on the fingerprint analysis.”

“I can work on that. By the way, what, um, is Joe working on?” said David in a would-be casual voice that fooled no one at all.

“He’s analysing the pictures of the crime scene. There’s something peculiar about the position of the body but we’ll get to that once we can confirm the identity of the body. Marco and Erik, I need you to take a little trip because Joe has just found out about who her client is.”

“So Helga Engel is indeed a call girl?” asked Erik in surprise.

“Apparently,” said Joe, who had just turned up with a stack of paper print-outs, “I’ve printed out her chat history on this website, hotcompanionsatdortmund.com. Apparently this is a website for call girls who want to make some money without, er, an agent. She’s been an active member for almost two years now. Last Friday night, she had agreed to meet this man at his house for 2 hours. I’ve managed to find out who this man is in real life. His name is Hans Huber and he’s a married government clerk. Here’s his address.”

“Marco and I will go talk to him then,” said Erik and Kehli nodded in agreement. As they left to see Hans Huber, Marco caught a glimpse of Joe embracing David and whispering in his ears.

“I hope David will get over this,” said Erik casually, causing Marco to turn to look at him sharply, “Löw’s death isn’t his fault. But at least Joe is there to help him.” When he saw the impressed look on Marco’s face, he said impatiently, “I may be young and inexperienced. But I’m not thick. Give me more credit Marco.”

“Well,” said Marco a little awkwardly, “yeah right. I hope so too. Anyway, what do you think of this case?”

“I think the body is Miss Engel and this is just the start,” said Erik thoughtfully.

“Just the start? Why would you say that?”

“Intuition?” shrugged Erik, “It wouldn’t surprise me at all if we find more disappearing girls.”

“You know what,” said Marco half joking half serious, “You’re turning into David.”

“No, I’m not. Well, not entirely anyway. I’m sure my sex life is a lot more exciting than his.”

Marco and Erik met Hans Huber at his house right around dinner time. A weak and twitchy man, Hans received them while looking around nervously the whole time.

“Is everything all right, Mr Huber?” asked Marco suspiciously.

“What?” asked Hans distractedly, “Oh, yeah everything's fine. I just want to see if my wife has returned.”

Marco and Erik exchanged a quick look before they started drilling Hans about Helga.

“Do you know a girl named Helga Engel?” asked Marco.

“Who?” asked Hans in surprise.

“Helga Engel,” repeated Erik. When Hans looked blankly at him, he flipped through Joe’s notes and said, “Okay, what about brunette_exotic_dreams1987?”

“Oh, you mean Dahlia?”

“Dahlia?” asked Marco in a confused tone.

“They never use their real names,” said Hans and he continued in a much more urgent tone, “Listen, you have to help me. My wife cannot know about this. She will kill me if she finds out I’m on this website.”

“We’re not going to meddle with your personal life unless we have to question her,” said Marco patiently, “Could you tell us about your interaction with Helga Engel or Dahlia?”

“She messaged me first,” said Hans hastily. “I didn’t initiate the contact. She made the first move. I’d never had contacted her if she didn’t... Anyway, she messaged me and asked me if I want to meet up for a fun night together. I didn’t say yes at first,” stressed Hans, “I was cautious. I’ve tried to resist the temptation but she persisted. I mean she’s really my type, curvy brunette. You don’t run into those all the time here. So after messaging back and forth for a couple weeks, I finally caved and agreed to meet her. My wife went away for the weekend so I met her for dinner last Friday night. We had a good time. She seemed nice and kind. So I took her back to my place.” Hans stopped and looked around nervously as if he couldn’t stop himself.

“It’s okay Mr Huber,” said Erik a little impatiently, “Your wife is not around.”

“Right,” Hans swallowed hard and continued in a low whisper, “Dahlia was good in bed. She was so nice to me and did things to please me. My wife never does that. So I kept her around for a while, about three hours. I wish I could spend more time with her but she insisted on leaving before midnight.”

“How did you settle the payment?” asked Marco.

“I paid her in cash. She’s pretty expensive but it’s worth it. That was the best 3 hours in my life,” said Hans with a dreamy expression on his face, “So I asked her to come back as soon as my wife is out of town again and she agreed! She even said that she’d give me a discount next time. I think I’m in love with her.”

Marco gave Erik a quick stern look because Erik looked as if he was going to say something smart to Hans. “Have you seen or contacted her since then?”

“No, not really,” said Hans and his face fell, “I messaged her but she didn’t reply. I thought she might find me unattractive. Oh my gosh!” he suddenly sounded very fearful, “Did my wife find out about it? Did Guinevere fright her off? Maybe she did like me after all.”

“Do you have any reason to suspect that your wife might find out about it?” asked Erik sharply.

“Guinevere knows everything,” said Hans in a whisper that was barely audible, “She knows everything about me and she gets mad when I do something wrong.”

“Do you have any proof that you haven’t seen Miss Engel since Friday midnight?” asked Marco.

“Well, no,” said Hans, “I was trying to be careful. I don’t anyone to find out about us.”

“Could you tell me your wife’s detailed itinerary of this past weekend?” asked Erik.

“She left for Stuttgart at around 6 pm. She texted me at around 10:30 pm telling me that she had arrived at her sister’s place. I phoned her at midnight so she wouldn’t get suspicious and we chatted for a while.”

“Did you phone her mobile or …?”

“Her mobile was off so I phoned her sister’s house. She phoned me the next morning to check on me and she did that throughout the weekend. But she didn’t phone me before she left and surprised me when she got home Sunday night at around 9 pm. She was trying to catch me at it. I don’t know why she didn’t trust me,” said Hans miserably.

“Don’t you think it’s because you’re sleeping with someone else?” muttered Erik. Marco gave him a disapproving look before turning to ask Hans, “During those phone calls, have you spoken to her sister? Can you be sure that she’s in Stuttgart the whole time?”

“I spoke to her sister Saturday night and I heard her sister’s voice during our phone call Sunday morning. Why do you ask anyway?” asked Hans anxiously, finally realising that something was not right.

Marco exchanged another quick look with Erik before saying, “Someone has reported that Miss Engel might be missing since last Friday night and it’s our duty to investigate anyone who had come in contact with her since then. Don’t worry,” he added hastily at the look of utter horror on Hans’ thin face, “it’s pretty standard procedure. You have nothing…”

“Guinevere knows! She must have! She always knows!” cried Hans hysterically, his voice choke and he was on the verge of tears. “She warned me. She said that she would emasculate me if I don’t behave. But I’m good. I’ve been very good. I’m good.” Hans repeated again and again as he clutched tightly on to Marco, looking quite demented.

Erik grimaced helplessly at Marco, who had to disentangle himself from a deranged Hans Huber. “It’s okay Mr Huber. Nothing is certain yet. We will keep you informed if anything happens.”

Ten minutes later, they managed to stumble out of Hans Huber’s house. When Marco looked back, he could see Hans’ scared face pressed tightly against the window, his body behind the curtains and his eyes wide with fear. He shook his head, “Jeez, I’ve never met anyone so…”

“Mental?” asked Erik, his voice filled with distaste, “He sounds like a dramatic coward to me.”

“He certainly has his issues but you’ve got to realise that he has been living under the terror of his wife for so many years. You can’t blame him for being paranoid and neurotic,” said Marco sternly, “And don’t you get smart with the ones you’re interviewing no matter how ridiculous he or she might be, understood?”

“Fine,” said Erik reluctantly.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay everyone,” said Kelhi loudly when everyone was back at the CID, “we have a murder case and that’s the only reason why they let us back to work. So don’t blow it. Now, Mesut and İlkay, what have we got?”

“The victim died of a shot straight to the heart,” said Mesut, “It’s was a clean finish. The time of death is almost impossible to narrow down given the state of the body but I would guess last Saturday night to Sunday before noon.”

“I didn’t find any sign of trauma or other physical abuse,” continued İlkay, “I’m still waiting for the pathology tests results. I want to know if she was drugged or not.”

 

“So she was most likely killed without putting up a fight,” said Kehli, “Was there any kind of sexual abuse on the victim?”

 

“From what I can tell, no,” answered İlkay, “But then again, things are a bit fuzzy in this case.”

 

“Can we identify the victim now?” asked Kehli and it was Olivier who answered, “We’ve talked to several close friends of Miss Engel. They have identified the victim’s dress and shoes as Miss Engel’s. So I’m going to say the victim is probably Miss Engel. If the fingerprint analysis or DNA profiling results could...”

 

“I have confirmed that the fingerprint of the victim can be found in many places of Miss Engel’s flat,” said David, his voice calm and his face neutral.

 

“Right,” said Olivier a little awkwardly, “I reckon that’s enough to say that Miss Engel is the victim in this murder case.”

 

“I’m afraid so,” said Kehli heavily, “Now Joe, tell us what you’ve discovered at the crime scene.”

 

“Sure, I have summarised all of my findings,” said Joe, as he started handing out notes to everyone, “This is a very peculiar case and I’m afraid to say, a very dangerous one. The first strange thing is the position of the body. She was placed in a kneeling position and even more strangely, her hands were clapped together. Here,” Joe handed them the picture of the body taken at the crime scene.

 

Marco looked at the picture and soon understood what Joe meant. The body was badly decomposed but very carefully positioned. The girl was facing downwards with her face touching the ground. Her hands were obscured from view but Marco could tell they were together. “It’s almost as if,” said Marco slowly, “she was praying.”

 

“That’s what we thought too,” said Mesut and he was clearly disturbed by the fact, “Besides, she was found in the backyard of a chapel. It seems like the murderer is a very religious person.”

 

“The other strange thing about the crime scene is the lack of blood there,” continued Joe, “There was no blood whatsoever. So that backyard can’t be the primary crime scene. It’s just a place to deposit the body. We couldn’t find any sign of a body being dragged on the grass so the murderer must be a strong male fit enough to carry the body around for at least 20 minutes.”

 

“So the murderer must have waited until the bleeding had stopped before he deposited the body there,” said David, “Why would he do that? It’s almost as if he’s waiting for us to find the body.”

 

“Which is why we believe this killer is probably a psychopath,” said Olivier.

 

“Have you found any evidence that might be linked to the killer at the crime scene?” asked Erik.

 

“I’m afraid not,” sighed Joe, “The crime scene was surprisingly clean with little evidence. We’ve collected some samples of course but my hopes are not high. The killer clearly knows what he’s doing.”

 

“So we’ve got a killer who’s very religious, highly educated, knows how to deceive the police, a strong male and definitely mental,” concluded İlkay, “This is bloody brilliant. Looks like a hopeless case to me.”

 

“Not yet,” said Kehli sternly, “We’re not going to give up hope so soon. What have you lads got, Erik, Marco?”

 

After Erik recounted their encounter with Hans Huber, everyone fell silent. 

 

“Well,” said Olivier with a grimace, “There’s a nutter couple if you want one. Honestly, what’s wrong with people these days?”

 

“Do you think any of them could be the killer?” asked David, his eyes focused on Marco and Erik.

 

“Well, we can’t say for sure until we’ve cross-examined their…” Erik opened his mouth but was interrupted by David. “I’m not talking about your conclusion after careful analysis. I’m asking you about your gut feeling.” There was some feverish gleam in David’s eyes and Marco suddenly understood the meaning behind the question. Before he could answer though, Joe wrapped his arm around David and said calmly, “The intuition isn’t everything, David. It could be wrong, which is why we need to follow the protocols and examine all the evidence before we can arrive at a conclusion.”

 

This seemed to bring David back to his normal self and he muttered “of course” before leaning more into Joe’s embrace. Marco saw Mesut gave Olivier an accusing look and decided to break the tension in the room.

 

“I don’t think Hans Huber is the killer even though he seems to fit some of those descriptions. He’s too nervous to be a cold-blooded killer. If he had committed the crime, you’d find some pretty obvious evidence.”

 

“What about his wife?” asked Shinji.

 

“We haven’t interviewed her yet. But again, she’s a woman. Is she strong enough to carry the body of Miss Engel all the way to the backyard?”

 

“She could have an accomplice though,” said Mesut reasonably.

 

“I agree,” said Kehli, “I think we should focus on her and see if she has an alibi.”

 

Before they left the office and call it a day, Marco grabbed Mesut by the elbow, “Can I have a quick word?”

 

Once they were safely out of earshot of everyone else, Marco threw the question he’d been burning to ask, “Is everything going to be okay between Olivier and David?”

 

Mesut sighed deeply, “I’m not sure. I mean honestly, I’d never thought that Oli would say something that nasty to David. You know David, he takes everything on and he’s going to blame himself for everything that has happened even though it’s not his fault. I’ve talked to Joe briefly about this because he’s the only one who can help but I’m not sure if he’s actually paid me any attention.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because he was too furious with Oli to actually listen to me. I can’t really blame him though. But I’ve tried and I think he’ll help David get through this soon enough.”

 

“How does Olivier feel about this?” asked Marco sharply.

 

“I’ve talked to him,” said Mesut very seriously, “He has admitted what he’s totally overreacted and he promised me that it will never happen again.”

 

Marco let out a sigh of relief. They were in a bad enough situation already. They couldn’t afford to have conflicts and tension within the group.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The first thing to greet Marco when he walked into the office the next day was Roman’s booming voice. “... absolutely no regard for the police department. This is completely out of line!”

 

“What’s the matter now?” Marco asked Shinji who made a face and handed Marco the morning newspaper. One look at it told Marco everything he needed to know. It bore the headline:

 

_INCOMPETENT AND CRUEL: DORTMUND POLICE IN DISGRACE_

 

_To most of the residents of Dortmund, the local police department should be a source of confidence and security. We have placed our trust (and our tax money) on the department with the hope that it can protect us from crimes and danger. Little did we know that the said department is not only incapable of solving any crime, but responsible for some of the serious offences happening in our city._

_The recent murder of Thomas Müller, a bright aspiring PhD student at Technische Universität Dortmund, has brought new embarrassment to the police department. Their inability to solve the crime is nothing compared to the horrendous treatment of one of the suspects, Professor Joachim Löw. A well-respected professor of the same university, Professor Joachim Löw was brought into the police department late Tuesday afternoon under the pretence of further questioning and protection. “We are of course very anxious about Jogi’s retention at the police department,” said Mrs Daniela Löw, “But we know Jogi is innocent and feel confident that his name will be cleared in no time.”_

 

_How wrong she was!_

 

_When Mrs Daniela Löw received the phone call from the police yesterday morning, she did not see her husband walking out of the police department free of any charges. On the contrary, she was greeted with the dead body of her husband with unmistakeable sign of torture and suffering, and a suicide notes confessing to the crime that he may or may not have committed. The police, incompetent as ever, is hitherto unable to find the torturer of Mr Löw. Or perhaps they have already found the culprit but are unwilling to divulge the information because it most certainly is one of their own. We have secured an exclusive interview with Mrs Daniela Löw (ctd. page 2, column 3)._

 

“Very vivid, isn’t it?” Woj’s dark voice brought Marco back to reality. “To say that Roman is furious is probably the understatement of the year.”

 

“Why are they so keen to blame everything on us?” asked Marco, “How do they even know that Löw was tortured? I thought that’s classified information.”

 

“It is. Jürgen has even persuaded Daniela Löw not to disclose it. So I don’t know how they know it,” sighed Woj, “But I’m not surprised since there’s definitely a rat within the department.”

 

“Has anyone made any progress on Löw’s case?”

 

“Nothing so far,” said Kehli and he looked exceptionally angry. “There was little evidence from the crime scene and everyone from the police department has an alibi. We’re also getting pressure from high up to close this case as suicide as quickly as possible.”

 

“What?” shouted Marco and Woj at the same time.

 

“Yes, they said that they’re trying to save the reputation of the department. As if!” spat Kehli, “They just want to keep their jobs and save their own arses. They said that if we close this case as suicide and Müller’s case as murder done by Löw, we would be clear from any blames.”

 

“What about the torture?” asked Marco indignantly.

 

“They are going to issue a statement to deny it.” 

 

“And they think that’s going to work?” said Marco in amazement, “Come on, even they can’t be that stupid!”

 

“Which is why they want Woj to report this case from a different angle,” sighed Kehli, looking careworn, “They’re going to talk to you in a minute Woj. They also want us to solve the murder case of Helga Engel as soon as possible. They need something positive to report on, to distract the public. After this mess is over, they may let us work on Löw’s case again. So let’s make sure we crack this murder case first!”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The murder case though, proved to be extremely difficult to solve.

 

“The killer is a real professional!” complained Shinji in the afternoon, after spending hours in the laboratory working on DNA profiling. “I couldn’t find anything useful at the crime scene. He knows how to cover his tracks!”

 

“I know,” sighed David, “He had even smoothed out the grass to make sure he didn’t leave his footprints behind.”

 

“Have we found anyone who might have a grudge against the victim?” asked Kehli, “Her ex-boyfriends, classmates she had once quarrelled with, previous clients?”

 

“I’m going through them,” said Joe, “It’s a bit tricky to find all of them, considering how many people she had slept with. Apparently she didn’t have a secret diary or anything like that. It’s a pity really. I like that book and I’ve always wanted to know what it’s really like to…” 

 

“Get to the point Joe!” seethed Kehli while Olivier was shaking with laughter behind him. 

 

“Oh, right,” said Joe rather embarrassed, “So far nobody stands out as a potential suspect. Miss Engel seemed like a nice girl with a pleasant personality. A bit vain, but certainly not confrontational.”

 

“So our best hope is still the nutter couple then,” said İlkay matter-of-factly.

 

“Not any more.” Olivier had just walked in with Mesut, both looking crestfallen.

 

“What have you got?” asked Erik eagerly.

 

“It turns out that Mr Huber is not the last one to see Miss Engel,” said Olivier, “We bumped into this idiot in that neighbourhood and he started running in the opposite direction once he saw us.”

 

“What?” asked Joe in surprise.

 

“Yes, he’s Mr Huber’s neighbour and actually a drug addict. He thought we were going after him,” The corner of Olivier’s mouth twitched slightly, “Anyway, once we’ve cornered him, he lost it completely and started telling us his life stories. When we showed him the picture of Miss Engel to see if he’s seen her, he told us that he did see her last Friday night.”

 

“When and how?” asked Marco.

 

“He was heading home after a wild party,” said Mesut, “and bumped into Miss Engel when she was leaving the area. He was certain it was her because he was trying to chat her up in his intoxicated state and managed to scare her away.”

 

“So Miss Engel had definitely left the area safely then,” said David thoughtfully.

 

“Yup, and he told us that he saw Mr Huber in his house when he was going home.”

 

“Well, it’s not strictly an abili but close,” said Kehli frowning, “What about Mrs Huber?”

 

“Solid alibi for the entire weekend,” said Olivier quickly.

 

“Great! Now we’re stuck without a suspect!” said İlkay, “Anyone wants more coffee?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, case 2 will be re-opened and solved. We will bring justice to Jogi and Thomas :)
> 
> Case 3 has started and it might be a bit long. I'll also try to squeeze some Lewy/Marco moment in.
> 
> By the way, does anyone know anything about travelling in Peru and Bolivia? I've always wanted to go there and I'm finally started planning for real (even though I'm thinking of going there a year from now...) I'm now completely obsessed lol.


	22. Case 3 - The Way to Marco’s Heart is Thoughtfulness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another body was discovered and the two cases seemed to be linked together. The team was struggling to crack the case but Marco was distracted by something else.

The next couple days had not been fun for the CID. Their effort on the murder case of Helga Engel hadn’t brought them any closer to solving the case. Löw’s case was closed as suicide with Löw identified as the murderer of Müller. Benedikt’s team left early Tuesday morning and Marco went to see them off.

 

“Thanks a lot for your help on this case,” said Marco miserably, as he didn’t have the energy to come up with even a perfunctory smile.

 

“No problem,” said Benedikt in a sympathetic tone. “Listen,” he lowered his voice so Marco leaned a bit closer, “I think we all agree that this case is not over yet. If you need anything from me, just ask Mats to contact me. I’ll do everything I can to help you solve it.”

 

Marco nodded gratefully and patted Benedikt on the back as they hugged each other.When he got back though, he was greeted with a rather gloomy sight.

 

David was glued to his seat staring into the computer, his eyebrows knitted together. Joe was sitting next to David and slowly leaning closer and closer to the screen, which made Marco wonder if the screen was some sort of blackhole that would eventually consume Joe. Both İlkay and Mesut were out of their laboratory and reading some files. İlkay was cursing fluently under his breath and Mesut was unconsciously tugging his hair. Kehli was dumping coffee into the coffeemaker with such force as if every single particle had done him great personal wrong. Roman, on the other hand, was pacing in a circle like a tiger chained to a post. 

 

A sharp telephone ring brought everyone out of the current state of frustration. Kehli jumped and ran to the telephone. “Dortmund police, how can I help you? What? Fuck!”

 

“Is there another case?” asked İlkay hastily, “I knew it! I’ve told you there’s some sort of criminal summit going on here! I’ve done some research on that and Dortmund is actually a perfect place for that kind of gathering because…”

 

“You read too much conspiracy theories,” said Shinji seriously as he walked out the laboratory with Erik, “You should never read them before you have your morning coffee or after you’re drunk.”

 

Roman opened his mouth but Kehli beat him to it, “Anyway, passing over İlkay’s peculiar taste in reading material, we do have another case. A body was found in the car park of a library, Marco, Erik, and David, go to the crime scene right now!”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The first thing to greet them at the crime scene was a hysterical girl in her early 20s. David arrived by her side at top speed, “Hello, are you the one who has found the body?”

 

Miraculously, the calming voice of David seemed to calm the girl down slightly. She looked up, her eyes big with fear, and nodded timidly.

 

“It’s all right,” said David in the same soothing voice, “We’re the police and everything will be fine now. If you don’t mind, could you tell us what you have seen?”

 

“I got here this - hic - morning,” said the girl hiccuping uncontrollably, “I work - hic - here. When I was about to pull into a - hic - spot, I saw - hic - someone there, So I chose a different spot. After I got out, I - hic - went to see who was there and I - hic - saw…” her voice broke and she dissolved into tears again. David gestured Marco and Erik to examine the body.

 

Lucky for them, the girl was too scared to touch the body so it was left in its original position. It belonged to a female with long dark hair. She was wearing a dark red dress, which made it hard to see the blood stain. Marco couldn’t see her face because it was hidden behind her hair. But one thing was rather obvious: she was murdered by the same person who had killed Helga Engel.

 

“She’s placed in exactly the same position,” cried Erik and Marco nodded gravely. “I wonder why the killer placed her so her head is facing the wall though.”

 

“I’m wondering why the killer has chosen to place her body here,” said David and he was looking very serious. “Anyway, let’s get to work.”

 

After photographing the crime scene, they went to examine the body. The victim turned out to be a very pretty girl with heavy makeup. The cause of death was easy enough to spot, a clean shot straight to her heart.

 

“She didn’t carry any sort of ID,” said Marco after searching the body, “We need to search the area.” 

 

The search of the surrounding area didn’t take them too long. The building was quite old and not open at that hour of the day. The car park was empty except for the girl’s car and the library was small enough not to draw any attention. Suddenly, David’s yelp drew Marco’s attention. “What have you found?” 

 

“I think this is her clutch,” said David triumphantly, holding a clutch he had retrieved from the rubbish bin. “It’s the only thing in the rubbish bin and if you look closely, you can see the tiniest drop of blood on it.”

 

Marco looked at where David was pointing and realised that he was right. “What’s in the clutch?”

 

“Let’s see,” said David who could barely conceal his excitement, “no ID but credit cards! Credit cards for some girl called Frederika Schwarz.” He looked at Marco and that he was thinking the same thing. “I’m sending these to Joe.”

 

“Why didn’t we find something similar in the case of Helga Engel though,” asked Marco out loud. “If we’re correct and both murders are done by the same person, surely their style would be similar.”

 

David thought for a moment and said, “Maybe the killer disposed this one because there was credit card in the clutch. We could track him down that way. If that’s the case, he’s clearly a professional. If he chooses another location to dispose the clutch, it could give us more information about him.”

 

They had to send Erik back with the body so it could be examined by Mesut and İlkay. David stayed behind to collect evidence with Marco, which took them quite a while. When they got back to the CID in the afternoon, the rest of the team had clearly made a lot of progress. 

 

“Joe has confirmed the identify of the victim to be Frederika Schwarz so we went to her flat to see if we can find out more about her,” said Olivier excitedly, “Luckily, we managed to bump into her flatmate, Melanie Silverman, when she was back for lunch. She said that she had not seen Schwarz since yesterday afternoon when Schwarz left for work. Frederika Schwarz is a cleaner and her shift is usually 5 to 10 pm.” 

 

“And she wasn’t concerned that her flatmate had not returned home for the night?” asked Erik.

 

“Melanie said that Miss Schwarz often spent the night somewhere else so she didn’t think too much off it,” said Joe, “Guess what? Miss Schwarz was a member of hotcompanionsatdortmund.com as well. Her account name is sweetcurvy.dortmund17 and her fake name is Camellia.”

 

“So the two cases are definitely linked,” said Marco in amazement.

 

“Quite,” said Olivier, “I’m also noticing some similarities between the two. Both of them were killed after they went to see a client. In Schwarz’s case, she left her client’s place at around 12:30 am and was murdered between 3 to 4 am. Her client actually lived in a mansion and the security camera recorded her departure. The footage also showed that her client had not left his house after her departure. Joe is checking the footage for any manipulation. In both cases, the body was disposed in the same position.”

 

“What about the location of the body?” asked David.

 

“I can’t see any correlation yet but I need to examine the location in person to know for sure,” said Olivier, “I would also like to get a third case to help me analyse.”

 

“Be careful what you wish for,” said Kehli darkly and Olivier shrugged. 

 

“I agree, the two cases have too many similarities not to be linked,” said İlkay, “The cause of death is the same, a clean shot to the heart. Both victims are brunette of similar height, around 5’6. They even look alike.”

 

“So the killer must be obsessed with that type of women then,” mused David, “Was there any sign of sexual abuse on the second victim?”

 

“Not I can see,” said Mesut, “Of course, her activities with her client makes the examination much harder. But as far as I could tell, there was no sign of sexual abuse. There was also no sign of struggle or violence on her body. It seemed like she didn’t put up a fight either.”

 

“This is very strange,” said Shinji, “Normally if the crime is sex-related, the victims are sexually abused and usually humiliated. And why was there no sign of a fight?”

 

“Even more strangely,” said Mesut, “was that her makeup was still perfectly intact. Usually you would see some sort of smudging or stain because the victim was crying. But not in her case. So she was either very calm or completely unconscious when she was killed.”

 

“She must be hypnotised or drugged then,” said Erik excitedly, “she couldn’t be knocked out because you haven’t find any bruises. So those are the only other explanations.”

 

“I agree,” said Marco thoughtfully, “the murderer must be someone the victims could trust. But that still didn’t explain the murderer’s motivation.”

 

“The lack of sexual abuse actually tells us a lot about the personality and motivation of the killer,” said Olivier knowledgeably and he suddenly seemed a lot more trustworthy. “I believe he has a troubled relationship with women. On one hand, he has very negative feelings towards women. On the other hand, he finds it hard to be with women, which is why he didn’t have sex with the victims. But he didn’t hate women enough to want to torture or humiliate them before and after their death.”

 

“Why did he position them into such a strange posture then?” asked Erik, “Surely this means something.”

 

“Do you think he’s sacrificing them for some sort of religious ritual?” asked David and his question was directed to Olivier, “Maybe he’s a religious fanatic who thinks prostitutes are immoral and should be judged?”

 

“It could be,” said Olivier thoughtfully, “His victims are either praying or asking for forgiveness. But if he really thinks they should be judged, I would expect him to be more violent. The way he placed them,” Olivier hesitated for a second before continuing, “it was almost gentle.”

 

“Gentle?”

 

“Yes, he made sure that they were placed properly and there was barely any scratch or bruises on the body. He treated the bodies with great care and even wiped the blood off them.”

 

“Sounds like some sort of sick perfectionist to me,” muttered İlkay.

 

“Or he could be feeling guilty,” said Mesut softly. Everyone turned to look at him in surprise. Olivier, on the other hand, smiled with such fondness and pride that Mesut blushed slightly before continuing, “Suppose this man had a traumatising experience with some woman close to him, he would develop this conflicted feeling towards women. But he knew what he did was wrong so he couldn’t help but treat them with as much as he could give so they didn’t suffer any more after their unjust deaths.”

 

“You really have learnt a lot from Olivier about criminal profiling, haven’t you?” said David with the faintest smile. Olivier seemed taken aback by the mention of his name but recovered quickly. “What can I say,” said Olivier in his usual flirtatious tone, his expression light, “I’m the best.”

 

Mesut and Joe exchange a quick look before looking away. While Mesut was smiling, Joe still seemed concerned. Marco let out a sigh of relief though. It looked like David and Olivier were good again.

 

Kehli ushered them out of the office by 9 pm that day, “This is going to be a long case and you’re not killing yourself now. Besides, I need you out of my hair so I can work with Roman on the news release.”

 

When Marco got out of the office though, he was surprised to see Lewy waiting for him. 

 

“Lewy, what are you doing here?” asked Marco in great surprise, amongst the laughter and whistling of his colleagues. 

 

“I’m here to pick you up for dinner of course,” said Lewy as if that was the most natural thing in the world, “You must be tired after a long day and I want to save you the trouble of driving.”

 

“How did you even know when I’d be out?” asked Marco.

 

“Well, I figured that with all the cases going on, you’re probably working over time. So I got here at around 8. I was planning on waiting for an hour or so. If you’re not done by then, I’ll just give up the surprise part and text you,” said Lewy, a little abashed.

 

Marco’s chest expanded with fondness and he couldn’t help but beam back at Lewy. Before he could say anything though, a familiar voice greeted him.

 

“I should know. The only way to your heart is silliness.” Neven smirked as he got hold of Erik and planted a kiss on his temple.

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Marco was quite exasperated. Why did his friend always have to turn up at the wrong moment?

 

“I’m here for the same reason,” said Neven casually, “I get the idea from Lewy of course and I think it’s high time for me to do something special for my dearest Erik too.” Erik gave Neven such a fervent look that Marco was sure that Erik would undress Neven on the spot if they were alone.

 

“I didn’t know you two are friends,” said Marco a little hurt. Normally he would be the first to know if Neven had befriended someone. He saw Lewy giving Neven a quick look but Neven merely laughed.

 

“Come on Marco, don’t act like such a drama king. Lewy and I bonded over our mutual frustration with the lack of a sex life. Do you know how hard it is to date an officer at the CID? I swear I only get to have sex with Erik once a week because he’s always busy or exhausted.” Erik, rather than looking embarrassed, seemed to be considering Neven’s word seriously. “But still, I’m better than Lewy, who still hasn’t managed to get into your…”

 

“Thank you Neven for your concern,” said Marco through gritted teeth while the others laughed, “Now I thought you have business you need to attend to?”

 

“Come on Neven,” said Erik half laughing half serious, “Stop teasing Marco or he’ll kill you on the spot. This is supposed to be a romantic moment for Lewy and Marco. Your sudden death might kill the mood. Besides,” he smiled at Neven suggestively, “Marco is right, you do have very urgent business to attend to.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

This time Lewy took Marco to a restaurant specialising in soup and vegetarian food. “I hope the food is to your liking,” said Lewy tentatively when the waitress brought them the menu, “I know you’re normally a meat person but I figure since you’ve been working very hard for the last several days, you may want something light.”

 

This was the second time that Lewy had surprised Marco with his thoughtfulness that night. This was so novel to him that Marco didn’t respond immediately. He was used to going out with blokes who were just, well, blokes. They could be fun, clever, handsome, and great in bed. But they were never considerate or mature enough to notice these details. Marco had always suspected that this was the main reason why he was still single after dating so many lads. But now, Mr Perfect had finally come into his life in the form of Robert Lewandowski and he felt his defence crumbling like a sand castle hit by a gigantic wave. 

 

“Sir?” The waitress’s voice brought Marco out of his thoughts. 

 

“I think we will need another moment please,” said Lewy politely. The uncertainty was gone from his voice and Marco knew that Lewy read him right again. He beamed at Lewy, “This is perfect, exactly what I need. Thank you so much!”

 

Dinner was a pleasant experience. Lewy didn’t ask Marco anything about work, which he was again grateful for. Instead, they talked about small things like Lewy’s new secretary and her encounter with a particularly crazy client, which left Marco laughing for a good five minutes. After dinner, Lewy gave Marco a lift. On the entire drive home, Marco was torn between two different voices inside his brain.

 

“You should totally shag him,” said the first voice, who sounded awfully like Neven, “He’s everything you’re looking for! Why not?”

 

“But you still don’t know his true intentions,” retorted the other voice, who was short with a plump face, “You haven’t had that real deep connection with him.”

 

“He has shown you how much he cares about you,” said the first voice, “How many men will be considerate enough to do all he has done today?”

 

“It could be a trick to get into your pants,” said the second voice heatedly, “He’s clearly very clever. If anyone’s capable of deceiving others it would be him. Besides, he hasn’t told you enough about himself. You still don’t know anything about his background, his family...”

 

“Maybe he was waiting for the right moment,” the first voice seemed rather annoyed now, “And stop telling Marco to stay celibate because you’re not getting some you silly hobbit!”

 

“Stop calling me that you clumsy giant!” shouted the second voice, “My sex life is perfect thank you very much!”

 

Marco had to shake his head several times to clear his thought. The white wine he had for dinner was clearly stronger than he’d thought. Before he could make a decision though, they had arrived and Lewy turned to look at him.

 

“Here you are Mr Reus,” said Lewy winking at him, “Have a good night sleep and I’ll text you tomorrow.”

 

Marco merely looked his confusion and Lewy smiled, “You’re exhausted and need your rest. Besides, you’re not ready yet. It’s okay, I can wait because you’re worth waiting for.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Thanks to Lewy, Marco felt much more reinvigorated after a good night sleep. He was therefore surprised to find a harassed-looking Woj in the CID. “What’s the matter with you?”

 

“Writing the story of this serial killer,” said Woj as he gulped down another large cup of coffee. His hair was sticking in all directions and his eyes bloodshot. “We have to warn the public as soon as possible.”

 

“We’re releasing the information to the public?” asked Marco in surprise. 

 

“Well, not everything obviously. But the public needs to know that they could be in danger too. We can’t keep this from them. So I need to send this out as soon as possible so it can be released today. But those idiots want this article to be politically correct. Anyway,” he sighed, “it took me the whole night to write it and they’re finally satisfied. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to send this to my editor.”

 

Throughout the day, Marco had been extremely twitchy, reaching for his mobile every 15 minutes. He knew he should focus on his work, as they had two murder cases to solve with tons of fingerprints for him to analyse. But he couldn’t help it. Lewy had not contacted him at all since last night. He cursed loudly and hated Lewy for turning him into a high school girl. But after a whole day of radio silence, Marco was getting really anxious. He was so distracted during their quick supper that he almost missed Olivier’s new discovery until İlkay kicked him on the shin.

 

“…with religion.” said Olivier, “So I went back to the crime scene today. Guess what? The body was directly below the window of a room, which was frequently used by a Catholic group for their religious discussions.”

 

“So that’s why she was placed facing the wall!” said Erik excitedly, “She wasn’t facing the wall, she was facing that room.”

 

“Exactly,” said Olivier smugly, “I’ve contacted that group to get a copy of their members. We’ll see if we can find anything from that.”

 

This great news however, did not excite Marco. His mind was still preoccupied and he kept checking his mobile. After he had done that for the fifth time in five minutes, Erik finally cracked, “If you have to phone him, go ahead and do it. Spare us the torment of watching you act like a prize idiot Marco. It hurts my eyes.”

 

“Aww poor baby Marco,” cooed Olivier in fake concern, “are you scared that he might ditch you after sex?”

 

“We haven’t had sex yet!” said Marco indignantly, “Not that’s any of your business!”

 

“But that’s your problem Marco,” said Joe seriously, which was usually a bad sign, “You should forget about all those stupid rules and shag him. It will make things much easier.”

 

“Sounds like advice from someone who know,” smirked İlkay.

 

“Of course I do,” said Joe proudly, “I shagged David on our first date and it was the best sex I’ve ever had!”

 

To everyone’s surprise, David remained uncharacteristically silent. Instead he just smiled briefly and quickly returned to his lunch. Joe opened his mouth but nothing came out. He seemed too surprised to speak too. Marco suddenly understood Joe’s skepticism yesterday. Joe knew that something was still not right even though David seemed perfectly fine to everyone else. Joe and David knew each other so well that Marco was overcome by a sudden pang of jealousy and longing. He wished he could know Lewy, really understand him. He wished he and Lewy could be like David and Joe, like soulmates. 

 

This thought seemed to scare Marco back to reality. He shook his head to clear this thoughts. Soulmates? He really had been too sentimental recently. 

 

“Marco are you all right?” asked Mesut in a concerned voice.

 

“What?” said Marco distractedly, “Oh, yeah, I’m fin…” His answer was interrupted by an incoming call from Lewy and Marco jumped to take it.

 

“Hi Lewy,” said Marco breathlessly, “How are…”

 

“Marco, I just… I can’t belie...” Lewy’s voice came from the other end of the line and Marco was instantly alarmed. He had never heard Lewy sounding so distraught before, “Please can you meet me at my place asap? I need you now!”

 

“Of course,” said Marco quickly, “I’ll be there in half an hour.” Then, ignoring everyone’s curious look, Marco mumbled a quick apology to Kehli and left at top speed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally writing some Marco/Lewy moment! The next chapter will also feature their interactions and some major breakthrough in their relationship :) I hope Marco's change of attitude towards Lewy is gradual and not rushed.
> 
> The case will take another couple chapters to finish. I think I'm half way through this fic but I can't be 100% positive. We'll see :)


	23. Case 3 - Don't Judge a Book by Its Cover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lewy finally opened up to Marco about his past, which took their relationship to the next level. The CID was under immense pressure from high up to solve the serial killing cases. Another girl was reported missing. Olivier had a stroke of genius and paid for his brilliance.

On his way to Lewy’s place, Marco kept wondering that had happened to cause Lewy, who was extremely laid back and collected, to lose control like this. Marco couldn’t help but fear for the worst. During the 15 minutes it took him to get there, the hypothetical scenarios in Marco’s head became more and more tragic and bizarre, from debilitating injury to sudden appearance of an illegitimate child to the discovery of hostile extraterrestrial life in Lewy’s balcony. 

 

To Marco’s relief, Lewy answered the door right after the first ring of the door bell. There Lewy was, standing in front of Marco, looking extremely pale but quite able-bodied. 

 

“What is the matter Lewy?” asked Marco urgently, “You sounded so, strange, on the phone.”

 

“I,” Lewy opened his mouth but closed it again. He seemed lost and harassed-looking. Marco was getting serious concerned now.

 

“Please Lewy,” pleaded Marco, “talk to me. Let me know what is wrong.”

 

Lewy took a deep breath, “I saw the news about the serial killer.”

 

It was Marco’s turn to be completely bewildered, “And?” he asked hesitantly, almost fearing the answer.

 

“And I was… No,” Lewy shook his head, “I have to take a step back and start from the beginning. Why don’t you sit down? This will take a while.”

 

After Marco was comfortably settled in Lewy’s spacious and elegantly decorated living room, Lewy started recounting his story.

 

“I think you must have wondered, why I have never told you about my family.”

 

“Your family?” Marco couldn’t help but blurt out. This was not what he was expecting.

 

“Yes, my family,” nodded Lewy, “You must have wondered and I don’t blame you. But the reason why I’ve never talked about them is because it’s such a painful subject to me. My father died of a stroke when I was seven years old.”

 

“Lewy!” exclaimed Marco and he rushed to Lewy’s side, holding Lewy’s hand between his. Lewy smiled gratefully at him and continued, “I grew up with my mother and sister. It wasn’t an easy life and my mother was struggling to support the family while taking care of us. Luckily, I had the best aunt in the world, Wiktoria. She was my father’s younger sister.”

 

“Was?” asked Marco, noticing the past tense.

 

“Yes,” sighed Lewy, his piercing blue eyes wet with tears, “Because she was taken away from me, from my family. Remember when I told you that I know the feeling of not being able to do anything even though you know the truth? Well, I know it because I knew Wiktoria was kidnapped and sold into sex slavery but couldn’t do anything to punish to the bastards who had done that to her.”

 

“Oh my god,” whispered Marco.

 

“And when I saw the pictures of those girls, they reminded me of Wiktoria. She was a beautiful brunette too, who died at such a young age and I just…” His voice broke and he buried his face in his hands. 

 

“Oh Lewy,” cried Marco and he wrapped his arm around Lewy, “I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what to say.”

 

Lewy looked up, his eyes locked with Marco’s, “Please find justice for them. People are predisposed to think the worst of them and nobody was willing to fight for them. They don’t deserve this. I was too late for Wiktoria. But don’t be late for them.”

 

“I won’t,” said Marco, his eyes bright and his voice determined, “I will find the true culprit and bring justice for those girls. The police might have failed you before but I will never fail you Lewy. I swear!” 

 

Without a word, Lewy hugged him back hard. Marco could feel the dampness on his shoulder so he kept rubbing soothing circles on Lewy’s back.

 

“Tell me more about your family and Wiktoria, the happy memories,” said Marco after Lewy had calmed down, “I want to know more about you, if you don’t mind of course.”

 

Lewy smiled, “Wiktoria was the most beautiful and fun girl I’ve ever seen.” and he started telling Marco all the stories of Wiktoria with such fondness and love that Marco felt he was close to tears too.

 

“Actually, you remind me of her,” said Lewy and Marco looked questioningly at him, “You’re both frighteningly smart, extremely loyal and caring, sometimes awfully stubborn, and very feisty even though you may not look it. Both of you have got this fire in you that allows you to pursue your dreams and never give up. I see it in your eyes the moment I met you. I suppose that’s why I fell for you right away. That’s why I love you Marco.”

 

When Marco looked into Lewy’s eyes, he saw the raw emotions of affection, understanding, pride, and love. And he finally believed Lewy. He finally allowed himself to face his feelings for Lewy. 

 

The next thing Marco knew, Lewy’s soft lips were on his. It was such a chaste kiss that he felt that he was being cherished and worshipped. Marco however, pulled Lewy closer and deepened the kiss. Getting the hint, Lewy started kissing Marco for real and things got heated quite quickly. 

 

As they stumbled into Lewy’s bedroom, managing to lose all of their clothes in the process, Marco gaped at Lewy’s body, which was so perfectly shaped and toned that Marco thought he was looking at a Greek god. Naturally, he was feeling self-conscious. Sensing Marco’s change of mood, Lewy stroke his face gently and whispered, “Don’t be scared my love. You’re absolutely beautiful.” Those words were said with such affection and love that Marco had forgotten about everything else in the world and gave in to his feelings for Lewy completely. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marco was woken by a gentle kiss on his temple the next day. After struggling for a good two minutes, he finally opened his eyes and found Lewy’s handsome face inches from his own.

 

“Morning sunshine,” smiled Lewy as he planted another kiss on Marco’s lips, “I’ve made breakfast. You should probably get up if you don’t want to be late.”

 

Marco glanced at the clock and jumped right into the air, smashing his face into Lewy’s nose in the course of events. “Sorry Lewy, it’s just I’m so bloody late that Roman will skin me alive!”

 

“It’s only 7:15,” Lewy’s voice sounded muffled as he was massaging his nose, “My place is closer to your office remember? I’ll drop you off. It’s only 10 minutes away.”

 

“Oh, right,” said Marco a little awkwardly, “Er, thanks. How’s your nose?”

 

“Still there,” grimaced Lewy, “Now go take a shower or you really will be late.”

 

Lewy turned out to be a great cook. His salmon omelette was simply divine. “I figure you must be hungry and will need all your energy,” smiled Lewy as Marco attacked the food with great gusto, “And here’s your coffee, Latte with no sugar.” 

 

After Lewy dropped Marco off at Dortmund police and kissed him goodbye, Marco walked into the building with such high spirit that he walked directly into Diego and André.

 

“Oi Marco, watch where you’re going!”

 

“Sorry,” smiled Marco as he really couldn’t help himself, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

 

André laughed, “Someone’s walking on air today! Wish we could all be happy as you.”

 

Marco finally came back to earth and saw that Diego was nowhere close to happy. He was in fact quite pale and very tired. “Are you all right Diego?” asked Marco in a concerned voice, “You don’t look so good.”

 

“I’m fine,” mumbled Diego in a weak voice, “Just tired.”

 

“Which is why you should go home right now!” piped up André. “Honestly, you shouldn’t take those night shifts all the time Diego. Now go home and get some rest.”

 

After Diego disappeared from view, Marco turned to André, “Is he doing okay? He seems to be under a lot of stress.”

 

André sighed, “Frankly I don’t know what to do with him. Now don’t get me wrong,” he added hastily at the questioning look on Marco’s face. “He’s brilliant at his job and everything, so thorough and detail-oriented. He’s the one who found out that a bunch of college kids involved in an accident were actually carrying marijuana. I wish we have more officers like him so I can retire early. But I worry for this lad. He always volunteers to take the night shift and even takes the day shift right after. He doesn’t give himself any time to rest at all! I’m not surprised that he’s ready to collapse now.”

 

“Why does he have to work himself to the ground though?” asked Marco.

 

André shrugged, “Beats me. I just don’t think he has a life. I’ve tried to take him out to the bar several time, you know, to help him settle in. Absolute disasters. He’s probably the worst bloke I’ve ever seen when it comes to dealing with women and that’s saying something because I know İlkay. Couldn’t form a coherent sentence and almost had a panic attack in front a girl. Poor bloke, no wonder he’s never had a girlfriend.”

 

“Maybe he’s gay,” suggested Marco half-heartedly.

 

“Don’t think you are allowed to be gay if you’re Catholic,” said André, “I think he’s just awkward in front of girls. Probably traumatised by a girl in high school or something. Anyway, I think we should hold a party for him after you’re done with this nutter killer. We all need to relax.”

 

When Marco walked into the CID, he was bracing himself for questions about what had happened last night. He was mildly surprised (and slightly hurt) when no one seemed to be paying him any attention. The reason was clear to him in a second though.  


“Oh there you are Marco,” said Kehli half relieved half exasperated, “I need to you to finish your analysis of the crime scene by the end of day tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow?” cried Marco in disbelief, “That’s impossible Kehli. Do you know how many…”

 

“Of course I do,” snapped Kehli very uncharacteristically, “But we have to. The mayor, José Mourinho, phoned this morning, demanding to know the identity of the serial killer by the end of this week.”

 

“Is he out of his mind? Today is Wednesday and we’re nowhere…”  


“I know, I know,” said Kehli as he pulled his hair helplessly, “But he has threatened to shut us down if we don’t figure it out by Sunday.”

 

“He can’t!” gasped Marco in utter horror now.

 

“I’m afraid he can. He’s the mayor and he can suspend us if he wants to. And let’s face it, we have given him the perfect excuse with the disaster of Müller and Löw’s deaths,” said Kehli in a pained voice, “So get to work, now!”

 

The only bright side of this new pressure was that Marco didn’t have any time to worry about Lewy’s call or text. He actually jumped and almost dropped his mobile when Lewy texted him after lunch.

 

“Would you like to go out tonight?”

 

Marco closed his eyes for a moment before typing his reply painfully.

 

“Srry, can’t. Have 2 wrk.”

 

Before he pressed “Send”, Marco hesitated and pondered about his reply for a second. Deciding against a text message, Marco picked up the his mobile to phone Lewy. “Hey Lewy, it’s me. I’m really sorry but the case just got crazy and I probably have to work overnight on this.”

 

Lewy’s voice was a bit disappointed but understanding, “Of course I understand. If you need anything, food, company, let me know and I’ll be there for you. You can also crash at my place after work. It’s much closer.”

 

With this assurance, Marco felt that his day may not be that bad after all. When he finally left the CID, it was 2 am in the morning and he literally crashed through Lewy’s door and passed out the moment he was on a bed. 

 

The next two days passed in pretty much the same manner. Marco was getting desperate and he could tell that he wasn’t the only one. The lack of evidence made this case almost impossible to solve.

 

“We simply do not have enough information,” said İlkay during their supper meeting on Friday, “We’ve done everything, autopsy, DNA, fingerprints, interviews. But nothing checks.”

 

“What about you Olivier?” asked Kehli, “Have you found anything from the religious group?”

 

Olivier sighed, his usual swagger gone, “Nothing useful. The chapel is at the northern end of the city while the library is down south. They’re quite far from each other. So the only person that goes to both is a bloke who works close to the library but lives close to the chapel. I’ve interviewed him and he has a very strong alibi. I don’t think it’s him anyway because he had moved here not long ago and didn’t seem to know the city well. He’s not the most organised type of person either. Quite clumsy actually. Don’t think he could’ve pulled off two murders in a new city without leaving any trace of evidence.”

 

“Maybe he’s just pretending to be clumsy so you wouldn’t be suspicious,” offered Joe.

 

“Nah,” Olivier shook his head, “The kind of person we’re looking for is someone who’s a compulsive perfectionist. You could tell from the way he positioned the bodies. The alignment and the angles were perfectly measured. He can’t stand things out of order.”

 

“In other words, we have a complete nutter out there,” said İlkay matter-of-factly but nobody paid him any attention.

 

When Marco got to Lewy’s flat that night, he was feeling despondent. The cases seemed impossible and they might be suspended because of that. He was also feeling guilty because he feared that he might fail Lewy despite his promises to him a couple days ago. Instead of looking disappointed or saying some hollow words like everything was going to be okay, Lewy simply sat with Marco and massaged his tense shoulders wordlessly while Marco was still thinking about the case. Marco finally went to bed with his head buzzing with pictures of the crime scenes and analysis results before drifting into an uneasy sleep.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Unfortunately for Marco, even the uneasy sleep didn’t last that long. He was woken in the middle of the night by a sharp ring of his mobile. 

 

“He... He… Hello,” yawned Marco with his eyes still resolutely closed, “I swear Neven if you’re bored again…”

 

“It’s Kehli, we have another case. Everyone’s coming to the office NOW!”

 

When Marco got to the CID at 2:30 am, he was greeted a motley with different levels of sleepiness. Mesut was dozing off on Olivier’s shoulder. Olivier’s hair was a complete mess but he didn’t seem to care at the moment. David and Joe were huddled around the corner with their faces hidden in the shadow. It was hard to tell whether their eyes were open or not. İlkay was slumped on the desk, snoring loudly while Shinji was shaking him every now and then. The effort was quite futile, as Shinji himself could barely stand. To Marco’s surprise, Erik was fully awake and rather energetic.

 

“What’s up with you?” asked Marco as he fought another yawn. Lewy’s coffee really wasn’t strong enough but then again, Marco could hardly say anything since he was comatose when Lewy made the coffee.

 

“Well, I was keeping Neven company,” said Erik in a cheerful tone, which in Marco’s opinion was a serious crime in such an ungodly hour, “He was working the night shift again.”

 

Before Marco could make any comments on this, Kehli woke everyone up in quite a brutal way. He had somehow managed to find a whistle and blew it long and hard. The reactions were quite amusing. Olivier jumped to the air and threw Mesut to the floor in the process. David and Joe banged their heads together. Shinji slipped and crashed onto İlkay, who was miraculously still snoring. Erik sniggered heartily and Marco sighed.

 

“Now that everyone’s awake,” said Kehli solemnly, “And for heaven’s sake can someone wake İlkay up? We have another missing girl.”

 

This seemed to really sober everybody up and they all started firing questions at Kehli at once.

 

“Who’s the girl?”

“Who reported it?”

“How long has she been missing?”

“Are we sure she’s really missing?”

“Is she a hooker?” The last one was from Olivier.

 

“Okay okay,” said Kehli with his hands in the air in surrender, “One at a time. The girl is called Ulrika Voigt and yes she is also a call girl registered on the same website. Her username is spanglish-beautieno1. The case was reported by her sister Heidi Voigt. Heidi told us that Ulrika went out to see a client last night and before she left, she told Heidi to phone her by 1 am to make sure she was safe.”

 

“So she knew about the serial killer out there?” asked Erik in surprise.

 

“Apparently,” nodded Kehli, “Woj did a great job with the story.”

 

“Why did she still go though?” asked Mesut in bewilderment.

 

“Because she didn’t have a choice,” said Kehli heavily, “Heidi told us that Ulrika is unemployed and depends on the income from her business to survive. That’s why she had to go even though she was clearly concerned about her safety. Anyway, Heidi phoned her at 1 am but Ulrika didn’t pick up. Heidi tried again at 1:30 am and 2:00 am to no avail. She was getting seriously worried and phoned us soon afterwards.”

 

“Do we have a picture of Ulrika Voigt?” asked David.

 

Kehli nodded and handed them the picture. Sure enough, the girl smiling at the them from the photo was a beautiful brunette. 

 

“I will check her profile now to find out who her client is.” said Joe and he left to work right away. Kehli turned to İlkay and Shinji, “I need you to go to her flat to gather evidence. Talk to her neighbours if you can.”

 

“What can we do?” asked Erik eagerly.

 

“You are going to search all the religious buildings in Dortmund to see if you can find her body. Erik, you go with David. Marco, take Mesut and Olivier with you. Oh,” Kehli added darkly, “make sure you have your guns loaded and ready to fire.”

 

After a quick discussion, David and Erik had decided to take on the east side of the city so Marco took the west half. Their first stop was a Catholic church, which was perfect empty and deserted at this hour of the day. Slowly and arduously, they ploughed through the various Catholic buildings in the area.

 

“This is not going to work,” said Marco after nearly 2 hours of fumbling in the dark of the backyard of another chapel. “I think we’re missing something.”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Mesut.

 

“I mean, we’re running like headless chickens now, aren’t we? But the killer picks those places for a reason and he will pick the next place following the same logic. If we know what that logic is, we can find the place.”

 

“Hang on,” said Olivier suddenly, making both Marco and Mesut jump. “Let me search something.”

 

After typing feverishly on his laptop for 5 minutes, Olivier finally looked up with a shocked expression. Mesut looked at him with great concern, “Oli, what’s the matter? Please talk to me.” 

 

Olivier paused for a second before saying, his voice trembling slightly from excitement, “I have an idea but I’m not entirely sure if I’m right.” He swallowed hard and turned to look at Mesut, his blue eyes locked with Mesut’s. “Do you trust me?”

 

Mesut seemed a bit taken aback by the question but he returned Olivier’s gaze with such a hard blazing look that Marco almost felt like turning around to give them some privacy in such an intimate moment. “Of course Oli, always.”

 

Olivier’s face softened into a warm smile and they just kept looking at each other. Feeling like a prize idiot, Marco had to clear his throat, “Hem, hem,” which had succeeded in bringing the two back to earth but earned him a dark look from Olivier. Marco shrugged, “I thought you’ve had an idea, Olivier.”

 

“Yes,” said Olivier as he strode back to the car, “Change of plan. We’re going to this new place and we’ll wait there for him to turn up.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Are you actually going to tell us where we’re going?” asked Marco. Olivier gave him a quick glance and said, “We’re going to a priest’s house.”  


“A what?” Marco couldn’t believe his ears. They were abandoning the plan to break into someone’s house?

 

“Yes, a Catholic priest’s house,” said Olivier calmly. “We’ll go there, wait around his house, and catch the nutter when he turns up.”

 

“But why?” cried Marco in exasperation.

 

“Because I have a theory and I think I’m right,” said Olivier seriously, “I believe the killer has picked those locations because when you draw the line between them, you make a cross. The line between the chapel and the library makes the vertical line. So now we’re going to one end of the horizontal line.”

 

“And this is all based on?” asked Marco skeptically.

 

Olivier merely shrugged, “Intuition?”

 

Marco couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of abandoning their original plan simply on Olivier’s whim. “How do you even know which end of the horizontal line the killer will pick? It could well be in the east side.”

 

This time Olivier did have the decency to look a bit sheepish, “Well, the west side is closer and I just, you know, guessed.”

 

Marco looked helplessly at Mesut, who smiled serenely, “I trust Olivier’s judgement.”

 

“Yeah you would even if he asks you to jump from the top of a building,” muttered Marco.

 

Mesut laughed and said, “Yeah I reckon I would.” Olivier turned to give Mesut a sickeningly sweet smile and Marco gave up on both of them completely.

 

By the time they had got to the priest’s house, which was located in the west end of Dortmund next to a lovely little garden, it was almost 5:30 am but the sky was still dark. “What now?” whispered Marco.

 

“His place only has two entrances, the front and the back,” said Olivier, “You and I will guard the front and Mesut will take the back.”

 

“Are you going to be okay by yourself Mesut?” Marco was concerned. Quite honestly, Mesut didn’t seem like the best fighter out there. Olivier, on the other hand, laughed, “You’re talking to the best marksman in the whole London police. Trust me, Mesut can handle this.” 

 

“I didn’t know Mesut is good at shooting,” said Marco as they situated themselves behind the bush next to the front door.

 

Olivier chuckled, “Not many people would actually. But he and David are the best. Sort of make sense doesn’t it? Both of them are calm, level-headed and patient. Besides, they are hand-picked and taught by Vincent Kompany himself.”

 

“The Vincent Kompany?” gasped Marco. Olivier shot him an angry look and Marco lowered his voice immediately, “But seriously, the Vincent Kompany? The retired UK Special Forces officer? The winner of the Warrior Competition five years ago?”

 

Olivier chuckled, “I didn’t know old Vinnie would be this famous outside England. But yes, this is the Vincent Kompany we’re talking about. After he had retired from the Special Forces, the London police hired him to be our trainer. He seemed to favour those with physical disadvantages, So he picked Mesut because of his knees and David, and another lad called Sergio Agüero, or Kun as we call him, because of their stature. During that three-month training, he worked with them to teach them everything from close-range combatives to all kinds of weapons. Of course Mesut couldn’t learn any of those combatives so he used all his time practicing shooting. After that, no one can match him in this area.”

 

Marco was impressed. He never pictured Mesut to be the dangerous type, let alone someone taught by Vincent Kompany. After another 30 minutes of waiting, Marco was getting anxious again, “Are you sure this is the right place? It’s almost dawn and surely the killer would dispose the body before sunrise.”

 

Olivier was frowning too, “That’s what I thought too. But I’m sure I’m right. Why isn’t he here?”

 

“Maybe he’s decided to try another day?” offered Marco with no real conviction in his voice.

 

Olivier didn’t say anything but was thinking hard. He suddenly grabbed his laptop again and started checking something. Marco waited patiently until... “Fuck!” cried Olivier and he got up at once, “We’ve got the wrong place. Come on let’s go!”

 

“You must be joking!” Marco couldn’t believe his ears. “What do you mean we’ve got the wrong place?!”

 

“It means this house is not the exact location,” said Olivier and he started running to find Mesut, “the garden is.”

 

“The garden?” gasped Marco as he struggled to keep up with Olivier’s long strides, “I thought we were looking for a religious place.”

 

“The garden is close enough to the priest’s house and I bet you anything the priest has hosted some informal gatherings there. But the key point is, if you do the maths correctly, you’ll end up in the garden, not the house. I’ve just overlooked it because I was too focused on the house. But the killer is a perfectionist. He’s not going to tolerate even the slightest mistake. How can I be so stupid!”

 

After grabbing Mesut, they ran to the garden. It was a lovely one with a little pond and spruce trees planted around the pond. Marco cursed inwardly. These trees were ideally hiding places and he couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched. A quick look at Mesut told him that Mesut was feeling the same way. In fact, Mesut was all alert, his body taut and his eyes scanning the surroundings. He even had his Heckler & Koch P7 out. 

 

“Found her!” Olivier’s triumphant cry had both Marco and Mesut running towards him. Sure enough, next to a tree, a female body in the same strange kneeling position was facing… “It’s facing the direction of the priest’s house!” cried Olivier excitedly, “I knew it! I’ve told you…”

 

The next series of events that ensued left Marco frozen on the spot. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The sound of the pistol firing, even though muffled by a silencer, could still be heard clearly in the tranquil Saturday morning. Marco watched helplessly as the bullet went past him towards Mesut in slow motion. He saw the look of first incredulity and then quiet acceptance on Mesut’s face. Then, out of nowhere, Olivier threw his whole body in Mesut direction, knocking Mesut out of the way in the nick of time. The next things they heard were the dull sound of bullet crashing into human flesh and Olivier’s cry of pain. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I have to admit, I suck at writing relationship that is past the friendly conversation stage. Of course my excuse is I want to leave everything to your imagination haha. But here you go. Lewy and Marco finally did it. I think Lewy might actually climb out of my computer screen to kill me if I don't make this happen lol. 
> 
> I was actually very excited when I wrote the second half of this chapter lol. Someone has suggested in the previous chapters that I should write more Mesut/Olivier with Olivier being the one doing something for Mesut. So this is what happened haha. And I left the chapter at that moment on purpose because I was feeling particularly mischievous haha.
> 
> Oh and there was a little honorary mention of Vinnie and Kun :) What can I say, I'm a city fan lol.


	24. Case 3 - The Serpent in Your Backyard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivier was rushed to the hospital. The identity of the killer had been revealed, which was a bit of a shock. The team was on their way to meet and arrest the criminal.

“Oli! Oli!” Mesut’s cry was so distant yet so close. Marco was wondering if he was stuck in some sort of horrific nightmare. “Marco, please!” Mesut’s voice was shaking and tears were flowing freely on his face now. Marco whipped around but the attacker was long gone. He hurried to Olivier’s side and gasped. 

 

Olivier was shot in the upper arm and was bleeding profusely. Mesut was tearing his clothes to make some bandage for Olivier while streams of tears kept falling. Olivier smiled weakly at Mesut and said in a small voice, “Don’t worry Mes. I’ll live.”

 

Marco jumped to his feet and dialled Kehli’s number right away. The five seconds it took for Kehli to pick up the phone seemed like centuries to Marco. 

 

“Hey this is…”

 

“Olivier has been shot,” yelled Marco, “He’s bleeding like mad!”

 

After shouting their exact location, Marco went back to check on Olivier. His face was pale and he was still bleeding, though not as badly as before, thanks to Mesut’s quick first aid procedures. He was half sitting in Mesut’s arms with his eyes closed. Mesut was stroking Olivier’s face gently while whispering words of comfort to Olivier. Marco looked away. He couldn’t stand this any longer.

 

Ten minutes later, İlkay Shinji, and Kehli arrived in an ambulance with none other than Neven. Olivier’s face was white as chalk now and without an extra word, they took him away. Kehli however, stayed behind with Marco. “David and Erik are on their way here. They will collect the evidence with you.”

 

“But Olivier…” Marco opened his mouth and was interrupted by Kehli, “Will be fine now that he’s in capable hands. But don’t forget why he’s been shot. Don’t waste his effort and blood. Now go and do your work.”

 

Marco was soon joined by David and Erik, who had hurried to the crime scene from the other side of the city. They collected evidence in unusual silence. Marco’s thoughts flipped to Olivier every now and then and he was finding it extremely difficult to focus on his job.

 

“If you want to go back to check on Olivier, go,” said Erik after an hour or so, “We can manage on our own here.”

 

“Are you sure?” asked Marco, not wanting to leave David and Erik behind.

 

David sighed, “Your mind is not in it anyway Marco. Just go and find out if Olivier is okay. We will be fine.”

 

Since Kehli had already left, Marco had to hail a taxi to take him back to the CID. He was surprised to find Mesut in the office. “I’ve just got back from the hospital,” said Mesut as if reading Marco’s mind, “Neven said Oli should be all right. He’s lost a lot of blood. The shot has ruptured his brachial artery but luckily it has missed the axillary artery. I don’t want to think what might have happened if the shot was an inch higher,” he shivered and Marco patted him on the back in a soothing way. Mesut shook his head to clear that scary thought and continued, “Neven said that he needs to monitor Oli for the next several of days to make sure there is no secondary haemorrhage. It’s not very likely, but we’re not taking any chances.”

 

When David and Erik arrived a couple hours later, Kehli called for a meeting. Every face was grave and subdued. 

 

“I understand how you must feel,” said Kehli, his eyes falling upon Mesut and Marco, “What has happened to Olivier is most unfortunate. This does not mean that we should abandon our work. We must work even harder to make sure we solve this case so Olivier doesn’t get hurt in vain. Now, what have we got?”

 

They took turns to recount their findings. The similarities between the cases were striking. The victim, the way she was killed, the position of the body all indicated that this was done by the same murderer.

 

“What I don’t understand,” said Joe after all the analysis results had been presented, “is why she still allowed herself to be taken when she knew perfectly well that there was some nutter out there after girls like her.”

 

“And again there was no sign of fight or even tears,” added Shinji, “What kind of person could easily gain the trust of the victim and kill them without even scaring them?”

 

“They must be drugged,” said İlkay, “I know they could be hypnotised or whatever, but I simply don’t believe in those new age bullshit.”

 

“Can we confirm this?” asked Kehli and İlkay shook his head, “Any anaesthetics would have disappeared from the body after such a long time.”

 

“How did Olivier come up with the location though?” asked David.

 

“He said something about a cross,” said Marco, thinking hard. Mesut however, grabbed a map of Dortmund and started drawing on it.

 

“If you connect the dot of the three locations where the bodies were found, you could see that they form the three ends of a cross. The fourth end is missing but I think he’s probably planning on committing another murder. If you measure the distance between those locations, you could see that the vertical line and horizontal line has an exact 3:1 ratio, the same as that of a cross.”

 

“So again, this has confirmed that we’re dealing with a religious fanatic here,” said Kehli, “But unfortunately this doesn’t bring us any closer to finding out who he is. I wish Olivier is here. He’s supposed to be the expert on criminal profiling.”

 

Mesut looked at Kehli and said tentatively, “Olivier had taught me quite a bit about that actually. The location of the crime scene, both primary and secondary, is supposed to tell you a lot about the person because most people will only choose places they know very well of.”

 

“But in this case, the locations are scattered in different parts of the city,” said Erik.

 

“So this means the killer know those places well,” said Mesut, still thinking, “Not just those places, but the area, and the route to get there.”

 

“He must be someone whose profession requires him to go to different parts of the city on a regular basis then,” said David, “Maybe he’s a taxi driver.”  


“That would make perfect sense!” piped up Joe, “None of the victims would suspect him. They may even be glad that he was there because they were scared of walking home on their own.”

 

“But the chances of all three of them taking a taxi is kind of low isn’t it?” said Marco, “How does the taxi driver know where to find those girls and even more, that the girls would actually choose a taxi. Some of them weren’t exactly rich.”

 

“He could have hacked into their user account to spy on their activities,” said Joe thinking fast.

 

“But still,” insisted Marco, “It’s a bit risky isn’t it? How does he know for sure…”

 

“Oh my god!” cried Mesut and everyone turned to look at him.

 

“Mes?” asked David in a concerned voice but Mesut ignored him. He bent down close to the mapped and traced his finger on it until it rested on one spot. His face turned pale and he clasped his hand on his mouth.

 

“What is the matter Mesut?” pressed Kehli, “Have you found…”

 

“Taxi drivers aren’t the only ones who know the city very well, are they?” said Mesut, his expression distant, almost vacant, “There’s another group of people who are familiar with different parts of the city and can gain the trust of almost everyone.”

 

“Heaven forbid!” whispered David faintly and Mesut turned to look at him with a pained expression on his face, “Yes David. A police officer will be able to approach the victims without raising any alarm. He can easily find anaesthetics and he has trained with guns to have a good clean shot every time. He knows what we’re looking for at a crime scene so he can make sure he doesn’t leave any evidence behind. Furthermore,” he pointed to the map, “the vertical line of the cross goes through police station.”

 

The silence that ensued was the longest and heaviest Marco had ever experienced. He himself was completely lost for words. Reluctantly as he might be to believe Mesut’s conclusion, he knew that there was too much truths in it for them to ignore. It actually made perfect sense now. All the confusions and doubts they had had before could be explained, though the answer was quite an unpleasant one. Finally İlkay broke the silence, “Bloody hell, since when did we start hiring criminals? I’ve always said that we should be more strict about the interview process. That idiotic intern the patrol department hired must be messing up the scene on purpose.”

 

“İlkay,” said Shinji with exasperation, which was saying something because Shinji was usually the only one who could put up with İlkay, “that’s not the point! We need to figure out who the killer is.”

 

“This is going to be particularly difficult since he knew how to cover his tracks,” said David. He turned to look at Mesut and Marco, “Have you seen the killer when he shot you at the garden?”

 

Both Mesut and Marco thought hard but nothing came to mind. Mesut bit his lips and shook his head apologetically, “Sorry, I was worried about Oli and I didn’t even try to look for the killer. I should have and I’m sor…”

 

“It’s okay Mesut,” said Kehli quickly and he patted Mesut’s back to emphasise his point, “We understand how you must have felt at that time and it’s fine.”

 

When David turned to Marco with a hopeful look, Marco felt guilty. He should have paid more attention. “I’m really sorry but I didn’t see him either.”

 

“Not even a glimpse?” asked David and he could hardly keep the disappointment out of his voice. Before Marco could say anything, Mesut opened his mouth, “Actually, Olivier might have seen the attacker. He reacted before me or Marco.”

 

Half an hour later, everyone ended up in Neven’s clinic. Neven was quite reluctantly to let them go see Olivier though. “He’s still very weak. He’s lost a lot of blood and he needs rest. I don’t think it’s a good idea to wake him up and let him talk to you lot. He certainly should not be overexcited given his current state.”

 

“Please Nev,” pleaded Erik in his most innocent and persuasive tone. Marco could see Neven’s face turn red and had to work hard to suppress a snigger, despite the unfortunate situation they were in. “We only need to ask him a couple quick questions. It won’t take long and I swear we won’t say anything to get him excited. Please!” The torn look on Neven’s face was a rather interesting sight to behold, but not helpful at all so Marco spoke up, “You can come join us in the questioning. That way you can make sure we’re not overworking Olivier.” This had finally done the trick. Neven sighed and led them to Olivier’s ward.

 

Olivier was the only one in the ward and he was lying on the bed, sleeping. Marco was so used to the overly energetic and usually obnoxious Olivier that he found this pale, quiet, sleeping Olivier rather unnerving. Without a word, Mesut hurried to Olivier’s side to wake him up gently.

 

“I’m really sorry to wake you up babe,” said Mesut in a soft voice as he stroke Olivier’s now loose hair, “But there’s something important we need to ask you.”

 

“You want to know what the attacker looks like right?” asked Olivier with a faint smile.

 

“How do you…” Mesut opened his mouth to ask but Olivier beat him to it, “Of course I know what you want to ask. I always know what you want Mes.”

 

Mesut seemed to be too overcome by his emotion. All he could say was a soft “Oh Oli!” and they ended up staring at each other. In the end, Kehli had to cough pointedly to interrupt them, “Hem hem, now that you know why we’re here, would you like to enlighten us on what you’ve observed at the garden?”

 

Olivier’s expression hardened with his eyebrows knitted together, “I’ve thought the whole thing over many times since I’ve woken up again. The attacker knows exactly what he’s doing. He picked to take Mesut out because he poses the biggest threat.”

 

“How can he know that?” asked Marco in surprise, “I didn’t even know that Mesut is the best marksman amongst us.”

 

“Well,” said Mesut, “You can sort of tell if someone is a marksman by the way he walks and holds himself, if you know what to look for that is. The killer is not bad at shooting when you look at the wounds on the victims.”

 

“Or he could just know because he’s one of us,” said Olivier darkly, “We didn’t really try to hide the fact that Mesut is a marksman. I’ve told at least two people about this.”

 

“Who are those people?” asked Kehli sharply. 

 

Olivier shrugged, “I’ve once mentioned this to Marcel because he was looking for someone to teach him shooting techniques. The other one is the girl at the cafeteria. I was talking to her about Mesut and this just sort of came up. I didn’t ask either of them to keep this as a secret so I reckon quite a few people must know it.”

 

“So you must be thinking what I’m thinking then,” said Mesut slowly as he locked his eyes with Olivier’s. After a brief silent communication between the two, Olivier sighed and nodded, “Yes, I’m afraid so Mes. The killer is a police officer.”

 

“Were you able to see the attacker?” asked Marco earnestly.

 

“I’ve only managed to catch a glimpse of him,” said Olivier, wincing slightly. Neven hurried forward to check on him while Mesut watched Olivier closely with great concern. “I couldn’t see his face because he had his back to the light. Like I said, he knew exactly what he was doing. The only thing I could say was that he is a pretty tall bloke with short hair, about 6’2. He’s not the lanky type, pretty powerfully built. But other than that, I really can’t say.”

 

“And you really shouldn’t say anything more because you’re going straight back to sleep,” said Neven, his voice unusually stern. “Your wound hasn’t healed at all and you need rest.” He turned to face everyone, “Sorry gentlemen but your time’s up.”

 

Knowing Neven, Marco thought it best not to test his patience so he got up obediently to leave. To his surprise, David didn’t leave like everyone else. On the contrary, he walked towards Olivier with a determined look on his face. Neven eyed him suspiciously but remained silent.

 

“I just want to say,” said David as he took a deep breath, “that I can see your point now. I am sometimes too…”

 

“Please David,” interrupted Olivier and he sounded very sincere, “I should be the one apologising. I was absolutely out of my mind when I said those horrible things to you. None of those were your fault. You did the right thing and I was a complete git to you. I regretted it the moment I’ve said it and I’ve been meaning to apologise to you ever since. My method isn’t always the most orthodox and you always keep me in check. I need that. That’s why we’re a team, aren’t we?”

 

David looked at Olivier and finally smiled with relief, “Thank you Olivier. You’re right. We have different styles and that’s why we’re a team. So you better get well soon because we need you back on the team.”

 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Marco could see Joe and Mesut exchanged a look of relief and happiness. After David carefully closed the door of Olivier’s ward, Joe wrapped his long arm around David’s petite frame and hugged him tightly. David smiled up at Joe before burying his face in Joe’s broad chest and hugging him back.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“So,” said Kehli after they had returned to the CID, “we have a murderer in the Dortmund police who is very religious, probably a loner, has a troubled relationship with women, and a perfectionist. I think we should…”

 

“Oh my god,” shouted Marco as something just came to him.

 

“What?” asked David urgently, “Do you know who the killer might be?”

 

“Okay I cannot say for sure if he’s the killer,” said Marco, feeling self-conscious as everyone’s eyes were on him, “But he definitely seems to fit the bill.”

 

“Oh for god’s sake Marco,” said İlkay impatiently, “we’re not here to announce the sentence of whoever you suspect. Just tell us and we’ll figure out if this is plausible.”

 

“Fine,” said Marco, “I think Diego fits the description quite well.” And he went ahead and told them his conversation with Diego and André.

 

“Hang on,” said Shinji slowly, “I think André has mentioned something about Diego’s family as well. He’s from Brazil and grew up as an orphan. Blimey,” Shinji gasped when he saw Mesut and David exchange a quick look, “You don’t reckon he’s the killer because of some tragic events of his childhood, do you?”

 

“Well, let’s find out shall we?” said David darkly.

 

A couple hours later, David’s triumphant cry caught everyone’s attention. “His mother! His mother!”

 

“What have you got?” asked İlkay eagerly, almost knocking over his chair.

 

“Diego’s mother used to a cleaner but didn’t hold the job for too long. She was unemployed for quite a while before she started working at a bar. Believe it or not, she was a university student before all of these!”

 

“Are you saying,” said Erik slowly, “that Diego picked those victims because of their occupations? Because he was trying to follow his mother’s life?”

 

“Exactly!” exclaimed David as he slammed his fist on the table. He shoved a picture to Erik’s hand, “Look at this. This is a picture of Diego’s mother before she died. Look at her. She looks like those girls!”

 

Marco scooped closer to Erik to look at the picture and had to admit that David was right. The young women in the old photograph was a beautiful curvy brunette with long dark hair. “What about his father?”

 

“He was killed by a car on his way to Diego’s mother’s bar,” said David significantly, “According to the autopsy report, he was absolutely pissed and crossed the road when the red light was on. So the driver wasn’t at fault. Diego’s mother committed suicide soon afterwards.”

 

“Oh my god,” gasped Mesut, “you don’t think she killed herself because of him do you? You don’t think she was feeling guilty and responsible for his death do you?”

 

“Why not?!” cried David, now started walking around as he could barely contain his excitement, “Why not?! It all makes perfect sense and explains why Diego has such a mixed feeling towards women. He blamed his mother for the death of his father and herself!”

 

Kehli’s arrival interrupted their discussion but nobody was complaining because he had brought even more information. “I’ve just finished a call with Roger Schmidt of the Leverkusen police. They had a similar case a couple months ago. They hadn’t been able to solve it either but all the descriptions of the case fits. The missing girl, Isabel Ziegler, was a nanny and a call girl registered on a sister website in Leverkusen.”

 

“Diego’s mother used to work as a nanny before she went to university,” said David in a deadly tone and everyone gasped. 

 

“Is that going to be enough for a search warrant?” asked Mesut. Kehli sighed, “Let me check with Roman. Normally I’d say let’s go for it. But now is a critical time. We’re under a lot of scrutiny and I really don’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble.”

 

After Kehli left, David gave Joe a meaningful look. Joe smiled back and picked up the phone, “Hi Alexis, fancy a bit of fun with us?”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“We’ve got it!” Alexis rushed out of the computer room after barely an hour, Joe hot on his heels. Both of them looked flushed with excitement. “Diego Costa has an anonymous account on hotcompanionsatdortmund.com and hotcompanionsatleverkusen.com. I’ve gone through his account history. He checks girls out but never asks them out. I’ve also found that the same person has been spying those girls’ accounts so their activities and histories had been monitored. The killer could easily know who they were meeting and when and where. He has also picked his next victim and guess what? She’s a bartender!”

 

“Can you confirm that Diego is the one spying on them though?” asked David straight to the point.

 

“Well, not yet,” admitted Alexis reluctantly, “I’ve set up a tracing program to track the account of that person but that might take a while. You know there’s a much easier way though don’t you?”

 

“You’re right,” said Kehli who had just stepped out of his office, “I’ve just finished talking to Roman. He’s coming in and once he’s reviewed all the materials we’ve got so far, he will issue a search warrant. We’re going to meet Diego and ask him about his little habit.”

 

The trip to Diego’s flat, though a short one, seemed to have dragged on forever. Marco could feel the tension in the car. Mesut was pale but the look in his eyes was fierce. David was touching the gun in his pocket subconsciously while Joe was trying to shield him even though it wasn’t strictly necessary yet. İlkay, for reasons utterly beyond Marco, brought a scalpel with him and was stroking it in such a loving fashion that Marco felt he might be sitting next to Dr Hannibal himself. Clearly the sentiment was shared, as Erik was eyeing İlkay with certain degrees of disbelief and alarm and was edging ever closer to Kehli. Shinji, on the other hand, was dosing off on İlkay’s shoulder. Marco reckoned that Shinji must be so used to İlkay’s crazy driving that Kehli’s smooth driving was like a lullaby to him.

 

Fortunately, everyone managed to wake up and stay alert once they were outside Diego’s flat. The building was actually a rather dingy one. The staircases made loud squeaky noises as they made their way up so their hope of a surprise attack had pretty much gone up in smoke. Marco looked at Kehli, who waved them on almost exasperatedly. To Marco’s surprise, David rushed to the door and made a perfect lunge kick that banged open the door. 

 

Diego’s flat was as drab as the building it was in. All the curtains were shut and the whole place spelt neglect and lifelessness. Kehli made a gesture and everyone spread out to check the place. All the other rooms showed no sign of life and when they reached the last one, the bedroom, they all braced themselves for the seemingly inevitable fight.

 

The sight that greeted them was definitely not something they were expecting. The room was mostly stark, apart from the pictures of various girls on the wall. Marco quickly recognised the face of Helga Engel, Frederika Schwarz, Ulrika Voigt, and even Isabel Ziegler. The most prominent of them all, was a large picture of Diego’s mother, presumably taken in the height of her youth and beauty, right over the twin-sized bed. On the bed, however, sat Diego himself in his uniform but without a gun, smiling serenely at them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are. The killer has finally been found! I'm sorry Diego but you're just a perfect bad guy lol. We will hear his story in the next chapter though.
> 
> The FIFA virus is going around and there has been a lot of injuries this week :( Mario will be out for quite a while and City could be without my dearest David for three weeks! I really hope no more players will get injured and everyone will get better soon!


	25. Case 3 - All Happy Families are Alike; Each Unhappy Family is Unhappy in Its Own Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team learned about Diego's past as he confessed his crimes. Someone was not happy with the work of the CID. The team was trying really hard not to be shut down while Neven had brought them more information.

“I figure that you lads will be here,” said Diego casually as if he was greeting some old friends who had just popped in for a visit, rather than eight fully armed men all with their guns pointing at him, “How’s Olivier?”

 

Mesut exploded at once, “You bastard! How dare you ask how he is! He has almost died because of you, you twisted, sick, evil…” The rest of his words were lost as Mesut lunged himself at Diego with his hands outstretched. It was only thanks to David’s quick reaction that Diego was not strangled to death. Unfortunately, David’s tiny stature meant that he couldn’t hold Mesut off for too long, especially when Mesut was struggling like mad to try to get to Diego. Both Marco and Joe jumped up to help David. After a couple minutes of yelling and scuffling, Joe managed to lift Mesut up off a slightly squashed David. Diego on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed and remained perfectly calm.

 

“I didn’t mean to shoot him,” said Diego almost apologetically, “I was really aiming for you but he took the bullet for you. I wasn’t trying to kill you either, just to, you know, debilitate you so you couldn’t find me.” His strange calm tone did not change a bit, which was making Marco’s hair stand on end. “Please send my apologies to Olivier. I’ve always liked him.”

 

İlkay opened his mouth but Kehli beat him to it, “So you admit that you’re the one who has shot Olivier and killed all those girls, including the one from Leverkusen?”

 

Diego looked at Kehli and for the first time, Marco saw a look of guilt flicker across Diego’s face. “I’m sorry. I’ve done something terrible but I couldn’t help it. I’ve tried to stop it. I thought that maybe a different place and environment would help. When André mentioned about this vacant position in Dortmund, I applied immediately. But it didn’t work.” He fidgeted and looked incredibly like a small child who had done something wrong and had been scolded by his parents. “They had trusted me and I have… None of them had suffered though,” he added earnestly, as if this was a key point they had to understand, “they were asleep when it happened. I’ve cleaned their wound and I made sure that they didn’t look bad. They all looked nice. It’s important for them to look nice…”

 

“So basically you had drugged them so they were unconscious when you killed them,” Mesut almost spat out the words in contempt, any trace of softness from his voice long gone.

 

Diego looked up sheepishly, “I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t want them to suffer.”

 

“And you were the rat who had killed Löw!” cried İlkay triumphantly.

 

“Why would I do that?” said Diego sounding genuinely confused. “I’m not interested in men. I only pick girls.”

 

“Why did you do it though Diego?” asked David in a surprisingly gentle voice, “Tell us more about yourself. We want to understand.” Marco recognised that voice immediately. It was the voice David used whenever he wanted to calm someone down, which worked almost every single time. Out of all of them, David was the one most inviting to other people’s trust. It was obvious that his quiet charm had worked again this time, because Diego was considerably calmer and he looked David straight in the eye when he started to tell his story.

 

“I grew up in a small town in Brazil. It was one of the poorest places you could possibly imagine. But I had a peaceful childhood because of my parents. Both of them were devout Catholics and they had taught us the right things to believe in. They were very much in love with each other and they had made sure we were a happy family. They even told us their love story. My mother met my father when she was still in high school. She was very bright and actually managed to get accepted into one of the local universities. But she got pregnant with my brother and had to leave her study. She said that she would do it again but I could tell that she had regretted not finishing her education. She wasn’t able to find a decent job because of that. After she had given birth to my younger brothers and sisters, the situation got worse and we were really struggling. I never know when she started it but she took to prostitution to earn more money. I found out about it when I returned home early from school one afternoon. I almost walked into them. Can you imagine it? I saw my mother, doing it with a fat ugly old man. I thought I was going to die but somehow I had stayed there and watched the whole thing. I saw him giving my mother money after they were done and at that moment, I felt that something had broken inside me. I didn’t tell my father because I knew how much he loved her. Yet he found out about it later. You just couldn’t hide something like this forever. He was beside himself with fury and grief. I had never seen him like that before. He used to be such a cheerful person, always full of laughter even in the most difficult times. But that day, he was cursing and drinking non-stop. After finishing all the cheap liquor we had, he had decided to find my mother, who was working at a local bar. I had tried to stop him. He was so drunk that he could barely walk. But he shook me off and went to find her. He was killed by a car when he was crossing the street.” Diego’s eyes were filled with tears now. “She could never forgive herself. I could never forgive her even though I love her. I made it perfectly clear to her. So she killed herself soon afterwards because she couldn’t take it anymore.”

 

“So that’s why you had picked those girls and placed them in that position,” said David softly, “they represented your mother and they were asking for forgiveness.”

 

Diego was silent for a while before he finally spoke, “Yes, they were asking for forgiveness. But so am I.”

 

Diego didn’t protest or struggle when he was handcuffed and shoved to the police car. His expression could almost be described as relieved. When he walked past Mesut, he stopped and said sincerely, “I really am sorry about Olivier. I hope he’ll get better soon.” Mesut gave him a mistrustful look but remained silent. Right before he stepped into the police car, Diego turned around to look at David. “Thank you David. I’ve never been able to talk about my past before and it feels really good to get it out. You’re a really good listener.”

 

David bit his lower lip but didn’t say anything. It was as if he was fighting a fierce internal battle. Just when Diego was about to walk into the car, David suddenly said, “Have you ever considered the possibility that maybe she did this because she had wanted to give you a better life? So you don’t have to go through the hardship that she had experienced again?”

 

Diego seemed to freeze on the spot. With his back to them, it was hard to read his face. After a long pause, he finally said, “I have. But that means I have to accept the fact that I am the one who’s really responsible for their deaths and the deaths of all those girls. I don’t think I will ever be able to face that truth.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The atmosphere back at the CID resembled that of a particularly dismal funeral. Everyone seemed to be in shock. Even though none of them knew Diego that well, he had always been friendly with them and seemed like a perfectly amiable person, albeit a little awkward sometimes. Marco still found it hard to believe that Diego was the true culprit behind all those horrible crimes. Mesut was probably the most affected, given the fact that Diego was intending to shoot him. None of them however, had the heart to break this news to Diego’s coworkers. Marco was particularly worried about Marcel, whose soft and gentle nature made him an instant friend of almost everyone he met, Diego being no exception. Marco understood how it must be difficult to accept the fact that one of your friends was actually a serial killer.

 

“Someone has to do it,” said Kehli looking careworn. “Marco, why don’t you tell Marcel and the team the news? It would probably help Marcel if this piece of news is coming from a friend.”

 

As Marco was walking out of the office to phone Marcel, he saw someone he wasn’t expecting. The man, who was in his early 50s, was suave and impeccably dressed but looked rather grim as he strode into the CID. He wasn’t particularly tall, yet his presence commanded attention. Marco however, never liked José Mourinho much, even though he knew that José was a very able politician. Jürgen and José never quite got along, which was perfectly understandable, as the passionate and idealistic Jürgen was the polar opposite of the pragmatic and calculating José. Marco hesitated, debating whether he should go back in to see what was going on. But his concern for Marcel won over his curiosity and he proceeded to phone his friend.

 

The conversation with Marcel was, as Marco had expected, a difficult one. Marcel was absolutely flabbergasted to find out about Diego and was clearly very agitated. “I can’t believe it!” cried Marcel, “Diego has always seem like such a lovely chap. He has made mine and André’s life so much easier. Are you sure he’s…”

 

“Yes, Marcel,” sighed Marco, “he had admitted to the crimes himself. I’m really sorry but there’s no misunderstanding in this case.”

 

“Oh but I can’t believe it,” repeated Marcel, “Does André know? He will be devastated too because he’s much closer to Diego.”

 

“Really?” asked Marco absent-mindedly. He thought he could hear Roman’s shouting from the CID.

 

“Yeah,” said Marcel, clearly distressed, “I think André feels responsible for Diego because Diego transferred here because of André. How am I supposed to break the news to him?”

 

“Look,” said Marco urgently, “if you could tell André the news, that would be great. You’re much closer to him. But if you don’t feel comfortable, I can…”

 

“You’re right though,” sighed Marcel, “I will tell André. We can probably be shocked together.”

 

“Great,” said Marco, “Do you mind if I leave now? I think Roman might have started the third world war single-handedly inside the CID.”

 

The scene that greeted Marco at the CID wasn’t a cheerful one. Roman was standing right in front of José, his face inches from José’s. The delicate shade of puce on Roman’s face, which had always greatly amused İlkay, was now threatening to turn into beet red. José, on the other hand, looked perfectly composed. He was staring Roman directly in the eye and not backing out even though Roman was probably twice the size of him.

 

“I’m telling you once and for all, your department cannot screw up again. The incidents that have happened in the past weeks have been highly embarrassing. Do you have any idea how many complaints we’re receiving every day simply because of this? Two consecutive crimes that involve police officers, one of them you haven’t even solved! It’s an absolute disgrace! If you mess up one more time, I will personally make sure that the CID is...”

 

“I’m afraid you will find that you don’t have the authority to close the CID, Mr Mayor,” said Mats, who had just walked in, surprising almost everyone. Marco hadn’t seen Mats in such a long time that he had nearly forgotten his existence. Feeling guilty about neglecting his friend, Marco made a mental note to catch up with Mats right after this mess was over. “The law clearly dictates…”

 

“Mr Hummels,” said José in an equally professional tone, “rest assured that I am in no way trying to break the law. I happen to have a degree in this area too if you recall. The law clearly forbids the mayor to close any major department in the system. But the law does give the mayor the authority to suspend personnels that he or she feels not up to par with the standard from any department, provided that he or she is able to secure substitute personnels during the time of the suspension. The law does not stipulate the exact number of personnels that the mayor may suspend, if my memory serves. So I am well within my rights to suspend the whole CID if I find their work unsatisfactory, as long as I can find someone else to do the work.”

 

Mats looked as if he had just been force-fed some of Neven’s cooking, which had resulted in numerous food-poisoning incidents of Mats, Marco, and Mario before. Marco had long suspected that Neven had made his food particularly lethal in order to boost the number of patients that visited his clinic. José on the other hand, looked quite pleased with himself. Once José had left the building, everyone turned to Mats.

 

“Is it true? Can he really suspend us all?”

“He can’t be serious, can he?”

“What are we going to do?”

“Can we poison him? Neven’s food might just do the trick.” This was from İlkay, who had had the unfortunate experience of eating Neven’s food more than once.  


Mats sighed, “I’m afraid he was right. The mayor does have the authority to suspend government employees. I need to go back to read the statute to see if I can find a way around it. But in the meantime, I suggest being extra careful and don’t mess up again.”

 

“We’ve never messed anything up on purpose,” said İlkay indignantly, “It’s not our fault that we have psychopaths amongst us. Diego’s not even in our department.”

 

“Well, still,” said Mats distractedly, “Anyway, I’m here to see if you need any help with Diego’s case.”

 

“How do you…” asked Erik but Kehli interrupted him, “I’ve informed Mats and Woj about the case. We definitely need help to preserve the image of the police department.” He turned to Mats, “Woj will be here in 5 minutes. Could you work with him to make sure the news coverage of this case is accurate yet legally and politically correct?”

 

Mats nodded quickly, “Sure. I’ll work with Woj on that.”

 

“Great,” said Kehli with a sigh of relief, “We may need you as the prosecutor but we’ll get to that later.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The next couple of days were extremely hectic. Everyone was working overtime to get the analysis results and reports done in time. Admittedly, Diego’s ready confession to his crime and his cooperation had made the process ten times easier. Marco sometimes wondered if Diego wanted to be punished so he could be stopped and pay for his crime. For some unknown reason, Marco found it hard to hate Diego like he had done with the many other criminals before him. If anything, the sentiment he felt towards Diego was more of pity than blind hatred. Mesut, of course, had no such trouble and he was working with almost terrifying fervour on this case. David however, understood how Marco was feeling.

 

“Diego is the result of a tragic childhood,” sighed David after Marco had confessed his thoughts to him, “I don’t believe he’s a complete psychopath per se. Sure he’ll shoot and hurt people to get his way but he knows what he has done is wrong even though he couldn’t help it. He’s being tormented by his inner demon and he’s suffering from it. I believe he’s probably just as relieved to be caught.”

 

“I’ve just never thought that I’d one day pity a criminal,” muttered Marco.

 

“This world is not always black and white,” David smiled sadly, “I have long learnt not to be the moral judge because we’re not in a position to do so most of the times. Sometimes one tragedy leads to the other and all we can do is to try to prevent another one from happening.”

 

“Do you think he could have been involved in Löw’s case?” asked Marco curiously.

 

David shook his head, “Whoever tortured Löw was a cold-blooded monster who enjoyed seeing the pain of others. Diego is not like that. He made sure that none of his victims suffered anything before they died and he treated their bodies with utmost care. Besides, like he said, he really didn’t have a motive to kill or torture Löw.”

 

“Who do you think the rat is?”

 

“It’s hard to say,” mused David, “we have too little evidence. But I have a feeling that we will know soon and the answer might surprise us all.”

 

Marco hadn’t been able to see Lewy for several days so when things started to calm down a bit, he met Lewy right away for dinner. During dinner, Marco had finally told Lewy everything about this case.

 

“Thank you Marco,” smiled Lewy, “for everything. It sounds like an extremely difficult case to solve and I’m really glad you were able to find justice for those poor girls.”

 

“You did not sound very surprised or impressed though,” pouted Marco, who was frankly expecting a bigger reaction out of Lewy.

 

Lewy laughed, “I knew you could do it Marco. I always have faith in you.” He leaned forward to grab Marco’s hand across the table and squeezed it gently. “But I am really touched that you were doing it for me as well. It means a great deal to me.” Marco finally smiled back and kissed Lewy over the table.

 

They spent the rest of the night at Lewy’s living room, lounging lazily and watching National Geographics. Marco was resting his head in Lewy’s lap, almost dozing off because Lewy was massaging Marco’s tense shoulders while planting occasional kisses on his forehead and it felt so relaxing. After Marco had fallen asleep on the sofa, Lewy carried him to the bedroom and tucked him in. Wrapped securely in Lewy’s strong arms, Marco had the best sleep for a very long time. 

 

Unfortunately, it did not last very long. Lewy was the first to wake up when the phone rang, while Marco still had his eyes resolutely shut. After several minutes of hushed talking, Lewy stepped back into the room to wake Marco up gently.

 

“Babe you need to wake up. Neven has just phoned.”

 

“Tell Neven to shag Erik if he’s got nothing better to do,” mumbled Marco, burying his face into the pillow.

 

Lewy chuckled, “I think he has done that already, from the sound of it. But it’s important Marco dear. It’s about Löw’s case.”

 

Five minutes later, a very grumpy and disheveled Marco was seated securely in Lewy’s car on their way to Neven’s hospital. It was only 4:30 in the morning and Marco could barely keep his eyes open. Lewy on the other hand, seemed perfectly lucid and was smiling fondly at Marco’s drowsiness. Marco wondered vaguely how Lewy could be so conscious and ready at such an ungodly hour but he was soon hit by another giant wave of sleepiness and literally passed out right afterwards.

 

What had finally sobered Marco up (he was half dragged half carried by Lewy into the hospital) was the sight of David, Joe, Mesut, Woj, Erik, and Neven all gathered together in Olivier’s ward. Mesut of course, was sitting right next to Olivier, who looked much better now.

 

“So nice of you to drop by Marco,” said Neven lazily, “I was beginning to think that Lewy is being too much of a beast in bed.”

 

“Language Neven,” said Lewy with a faint smile. He turned to Marco and said, “Now that you’re in safe hands, I’ll head off and try to catch some sleep. Just ring me if you want me to pick you up babe.” Marco nodded, appreciating Lewy being so considerate. Lewy pecked Marco quickly on the lips and left the room. Olivier whistled. He was definitely getting better.

 

Marco gave both Neven and Olivier an extremely dark look before turning his gaze to David, whom he considered the sanest of them all, “What’s the matter? Is there a new case? Why is everyone gathered around here?”

 

David sighed, “Well, not a new case necessarily. But we do have some new information on the case of Müller’s murder. Neven, why don’t you fill everyone in?”

 

“Well,” said Neven, his tone now very serious, “I started my shift at 12 am today. It was a quiet one as usual until I saw a man walking in stealthily. Guess who it was? Louis Van Gaal.”

 

“Why is Van Gaal coming to see you?” asked Marco as he couldn’t help himself, “He’s a professor and department chair. Surely he can afford to go to a hospital that is less, well…”

 

“Dodgy?” offered Neven, though he did not look offended at all. “Yeah, I’ve wondered that too. But he clearly didn’t want to be recognised. He also used a fake name when registering with us. I didn’t point it out though. I wanted to see what he was up to. And he came to see about pain in his left wrist.”

 

“You don’t mean…” gasped Marco.

 

“I can see that you’re heading in the right direction,” said Neven, “I immediately suspected the same thing. I ran some test on his wrist. It wasn’t pretty. His whole left wrist was seriously inflamed, which was caused by a pretty bad sprain on the ligament of the wrist. He clearly hasn’t taken any action after the sprain, which is why the inflammation is so bad now.”

 

“In other words, Van Gaal hurt his left wrist a while ago but did not seek medical attention,” smirked Olivier, “Any idea why?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this chapter has been particularly difficult for me to write. I want to convey the idea that the world is not black and white. It's always more complicated than that. Most of those criminals, even the craziest ones, have a tragic history that we do not know of. Their behaviours in later life are usually results of a damaged childhood. On one hand we all hate them for what they have done, but blind hatred never solves anything. If we can take the time to learn and understand their past, we may stand a better chance of preventing the same thing from happening again.
> 
> Anyway, this wraps up Case 3. And as promised, I'm going back to Thomas' case and we'll find justice for him in Case 4. I'll try to involve Neven and Mats more because I feel like I've forgotten about them, especially Mats lol.
> 
> Just a heads up, I may not be able to update next weekend because I'm going to China next week. Currently my schedule looks absolutely crazy. I'll try to write something on the 12-hour flight but I will most likely just pass out lol. So apologies in advance if I don't update next weekend. But at least I've finished Case 3 :)


	26. Case 4 - Nothing Stays Secret Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As more information about Thomas' murder was revealed, the team was getting closer to the truth. Unfortunately, they were not the only one working secretly on this case. As they watched Van Gaal in secret, someone else was watching them too.

“So Van Gaal is most likely the killer of Thomas Müller,” said Marco, “But this is not enough evidence for a search warrant.”

 

“We should spy on Van Gaal,” said Olivier eagerly, as he propped himself up, “He’s bound to give himself away sooner or later. Maybe we can also tap his mobile or something.”

 

“That will get us all suspended,” said Erik before David could even open his mouth, “even if we can prove that Van Gaal is the killer later. José Mourinho is already breathing down our neck, looking for any slightest misstep. We’re not going to make it easier for him. We need to gather more evidence so we can generate a search warrant.”

 

“But how are we going to do that if we don’t resort to less orthodox means?” asked Olivier exasperatedly, “Do I need to remind you that all the forensics analysis results point to Löw not Van Gaal? Going through them again isn’t going to magically change the results. And how are we going to get more evidence when the case is practically closed?”

 

“Actually,” said David slowly, “we as the police may not be able to spy on Van Gaal. But it doesn’t stop others from keeping an eye on him. That way, we’re not technically breaking any rules and we still have a better chance of finding out what had happened.”

 

Everyone gaped at David, who blushed slightly but held their gaze. A huge grin broke on Olivier’s face, “I like how you think now David! And we can ask Alexis…”

 

“No,” said David firmly, “We’re not tapping Van Gaal’s phone, period. That’s just way too risky and could get us and Alexis in big trouble. As for the spying part, it needs be to done by someone who has a good reason to be around Van Gaal so it will not raise suspicion. And of course, that someone has to be someone we can trust.” He looked Olivier directly in the eyes and Marco could tell that they were having a silent conversation. The look on Olivier’s face was a mixture of surprise and reluctant appreciation. David’s face remained neutral but determined. Marco himself was utterly perplexed by the exchange between the two and was relieved to find that he wasn’t the only one when he looked around. In fact, nobody else seemed to know what was going on except, Neven. Marco had to blink to make sure that his eyes were not deceiving him but the meaningful look that Neven had given Olivier was definitely not the trick of the light. Marco wondered vaguely if Neven and Olivier had formed some sort of strange friendship when they were cooped up together in Olivier’s ward.

 

“What the he…” asked Erik, who was equally confused but Olivier cut him off, “I have the perfect candidate for the job, Héctor Bellerín.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It didn’t take them too long to persuade Héctor at all. In fact, the whole process was surprisingly quick. Olivier did most of the talking while David had his cryptic mask on the whole time.

 

“Don’t worry,” said Héctor after Olivier had finished, “I’ve been keeping an eye on Professor Van Gaal ever since Thomas’ death. He hasn’t suspected anything yet. I will let you know once I’ve found some useful information.”

 

“Are you sure we can trust him?” asked Mesut after Héctor had left the hospital.

 

“I’m sure he can be trusted,” said Olivier confidently, “And he really is the best person to do this. I think we’ll hear some good news really soon. Van Gaal thinks that the investigations are over so he’s letting his guard down.”

 

“We need to keep this a complete secret though,” said Kehli, who had been invited along with İlkay and Shinji, “Nobody except us will know about this. We know that we have a leak within the police department and I don’t want to risk anything else.” He shot a quick look at Neven, who picked up the cue quickly enough, “I’ll leave you to your discussion then,” and left the room quietly.

 

“Can we trust Neven?” asked Kehli once Neven was out of the room.

 

“I’ll vouch for Neven with my life,” piped up Marco at once and Erik nodded fervently.

 

“Good,” said Kehli, “But it’s best if we keep any progress on the case away from him. It’s for his own safety too. I will decide when to loop Roman and Jürgen in on this. As for the meeting place…”

 

“This place should work,” said İlkay, “Neven has told me that he’ll made sure we cannot be overheard. Not that we have any other choices, with Olivier still confined in bed.”

 

“How can he make sure that we’re safe here?” asked Mesut skeptically.

 

“He has enlisted the help of Mario Balotelli,” said İlkay enthusiastically and Marco’s vision blacked out for a moment. When he had come back to life, İlkay was still talking enthusiastically, “... in their right mind would try to get past Mario Balotelli. So this should work out perfectly. I really like this bloke actually.”

 

Marco looked up to the sky, asking any sort of deity above if he had done something wrong inhis past life to deserve this. Why would anyone let İlkay get together with Mario Balotelli? Kehli on the other hand, seemed quite satisfied with the solution, “Good. So we will meet here until Olivier is better. Again, nobody must know and we’ll only meet after hours.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Their next meeting came a bit sooner than expected. Marco had never expected Héctor to find anything so soon and was therefore a bit surprised to receive Olivier’s phone call the next day. The new piece of information as it turned out, came from Neven again.

 

“I’ve found something that might be useful,” said Neven as he pointed to the computer screen, “I’ve been thinking about the whole case over many times. The main reason why Van Gaal is safe is because he has an alibi. Because of that, we can’t point anything to him. So I started down the path with the assumption that his alibi is actually not accurate.”

 

“You mean his life has lied about his alibi?” asked Marco sharply.

 

“I doubt that,” said Mesut, “All the witnesses have been subjected to polygraph. Of course, this kind of lie detector can be fooled. But when she was being interviewed, I was there. She didn’t look like she was lying.”

 

“I agree,” smiled Neven smugly, “She might not be lying. She might be telling what she thought was the truth. Look at this.”

 

Everyone gathered around to stare at the computer screen and unless Marco’s eyes were deceiving him, they were looking at the medical record of Mrs Van Gaal.

 

“Bloody hell Neven!” cried Erik, “How do you manage to get this?”

 

“Well,” said Neven a little sheepishly, “I’ve got some help from Alexis.”

 

“Oh my god please tell me you didn’t ask him to hack into the system of every hospital in Dortmund,” said Joe.

 

“Not every hospital,” said Neven, “We were lucky and found her information on the second try.”

 

“That’s enough!” said Kehli sternly, “This kind of things should never happen again. We will pretend we don’t know this. In no way will this piece of information be used as evidence. In other words, it does not exist. But, since we do have it, let’s hear your theory Neven.”

 

“Fine,” said Neven bitterly, “It’s pretty obvious. From her record, you can see that she has suffered from various health issues like high blood pressure, etc. So she’s taking daily meds regularly. She has also gone to the doctors a couple times in the past for insomnia. During each of the visit, the doctor had prescribed sleeping pills for her. Of course that was a while ago. But those sleeping pills are not exactly hard to come by. If say Van Gaal had managed to get those sleeping pills from some dodgy pharmacy and slipped them into his wife’s daily meds, she would sleep through the night not knowing a thing. That would allow Van Gaal to sneak out and do whatever while still having an alibi.”

 

Marco had to admit, this made sense. But unfortunately, it was just a guess. David apparently shared the same sentiment. “It’s a good theory and would explain a lot,” sighed David, “But again it’s not admissible as evidence. Unless we can find proof that Van Gaal did buy those sleeping pills, what you’ve said is just a speculation.”

 

Olivier looked thoughtful and Marco was not sure if he liked what Olivier was thinking. Kehli had clearly sensed the danger too because he said very sternly, “Don’t do anything foolish Olivier. We cannot afford a mistake at this point. Don’t think I don’t know it. You’ve egged Neven on, haven’t you? Stop doing that! We’ll wait for Héctor’s intel.”

 

Héctor didn’t come to them for another week. Thinking to protect Héctor and not to draw attention to themselves, the team went on their usual business. Mats had been pulling really long hours on Diego’s prosecution and the lack of sleep was taking its toll.

 

“When was the last time you’ve slept?” asked Marco, when a particularly disheveled Mats showed up at the CID.

 

“I don’t have time for sleeping,” snapped Mats, the dark shadows under his eyes quite obvious. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. It’s just I’m doing some investigation on this case.”

 

“Investigation?” asked Marco in surprise, “I thought we’ve done all of that.”

 

“Well,” said Mats slowly and he looked around to make sure no one could hear them, “For this particularly case, yes. But I’ve just got a feeling that this case is not an isolated incident. First you have a leak in the police department who might have caused the death of a suspect who was very likely framed to start with. Then one of the newly hired patrol officers has turned out to be a serial killer. Now you’re all under surveillance and could be suspended at any time. You can’t seriously think that these are just coincidences. Someone is plotting against the police department.”

 

“How did you figure that one out?” asked Marco suspiciously.

 

“I use my brains,” said Mats sarcastically. “None of these are exactly rocket science, you know? The point is, there is a conspiracy going on against the police department and Diego’s case might help us figure it out. So I’m going to keep working on that. In the meantime, I suggest you all be extra careful. I have a feeling we haven’t heard the end of this yet.”

 

A week later, Héctor showed up at Neven’s clinic to update the team on his progress. Marco was relieved to see that Héctor looked like his usual fashionable self. He clearly knew how to work undercover without raising any suspicion.

 

“I have been following Van Gaal closely for the past week,” said Héctor, “which means I had to find excuses to talk to him or make a detour to avoid suspicion. I don’t think he has realised anything yet.”

 

“This is very good,” said Kehli approvingly, “It is critical that we keep this investigation secret. Have you found or heard anything potentially useful?”

 

“I’ve overheard a conversation he’s had with someone on the phone. But I’m not sure if it’s enough evidence,” said Héctor apologetically, “It’s definitely suspicious. I’ve recorded it. Here.” And he fished out a recording device from his pocket and pressed on the “Play” button.

 

The first voice Marco heard was undoubtedly from Van Gaal, even though his seemed to be talking in a hushed voice. The volume of his voice was surprising gook with little background noise. Marco looked questioningly at Héctor who shrugged, “This is a processed version of the original file. Someone had helped me to amplify the sound and reduce the background noise.”

 

In the recording, Van Gaal didn’t sound very pleased at all, “He had promised me that he would get me out of here. But I’ve waited weeks and weeks and nothing came. I mean look at me now, I’m still stuck in Dortmund. Of course I have to do something to protect myself when he’s not doing it for me.”

 

The voice from the other end of the line was much harder to decipher. But it was quite obvious that it belonged to a man. Marco thought he caught random words like “promise”, “Dortmund”, “soon”, “transfer”, “evidence”. Whatever that man had said, Van Gaal was clearly pacified, “Well, it sounded like he do know what he’s doing this time. This needs to happen fast though. I mean if they’re already getting suspicious, I want to be out of here asap.”

 

“Van Gaal left after this,” said Héctor, “I didn’t want to expose myself so I didn’t follow him.”

 

“Did you hear what the other bloke was saying?” asked Erik but Héctor shook his head. “Van Gaal was very careful and I could barely hear what he was talking about, let alone the other man. Had it not been for my friend, you wouldn’t even hear this conversation.”

 

“But this has almost confirmed our suspicion about Van Gaal,” said David, “Van Gaal has been working for someone illegally. Somehow this got out and Van Gaal was afraid that his involvement would get him into trouble. So he asked whoever he was working for to get him out of Dortmund but that man didn’t keep his promise. When Van Gaal realised that Müller was working on a money laundering cases, he panicked and killed Müller while setting it up so it looked like Löw did it.”

 

“And now this man Van Gaal has been working for has some information that could help Van Gaal. It must be pretty useful information because otherwise Van Gaal wouldn’t believe him,” said Mesut, following the same train of thought.

 

“Why didn’t he keep his promises though?” asked Marco, “Surely it would be much easier to get Van Gaal out before he had killed Müller than now.”

 

“That is pretty suspicious,” said Olivier, his eyebrows knitted together, “The only explanation I can think of is that this man wanted Van Gaal to kill Müller. But I still don’t understand why. I mean a murder case is a big one and is bound to draw the attention of the police. Why on earth would he want that?”

 

“Do you think he’s serious about getting Van Gaal out this time?” asked İlkay and it was Héctor answered. “Van Gaal looked much calmer after the conversation so I would say yes. Van Gaal is not stupid. This man has already let him down once so he’s not exactly in Van Gaal’s good book. Unless this man can present some real plan, Van Gaal is not going to believe him.”

 

“So we have to assume that he is being serious and will most likely get Van Gaal out of Dortmund soon,” said Olivier. He turned to Kehli, “We need to act now before it’s too late. Let’s go and search Van Gaal’s house. We’re bound to find something.”

 

“No,” said Kehli firmly. He had been rather quiet during their discussion, merely listening and observing. But he looked very determined now. “The conversation proves nothing. It may confirm our suspicion but unless you haven’t noticed, Van Gaal was very careful about using words that might incriminate him. He didn’t say exactly what he did to protect himself nor did he say why he wanted to get out of Dortmund. It’s not against the law to do something to protect yourself or to transfer to another city. We cannot go and investigate Van Gaal based on this.”

 

“Kehli’s right,” sighed David, interrupting Olivier’s protesting. “If we do act now, it will only hand our suspension notice to José Mourinho.”

 

“So what are we supposed to do now? Wait until Van Gaal is gone? We can’t just sit here and do nothing!” Olivier said heatedly while waving his uninjured hand. Mesut quickly checked his bandage to make sure Olivier didn’t hurt himself. 

 

“We have to gather more evidence,” repeated Kehli, “Héctor, go back to Van Gaal and see if you can get more information. We need that now, or we really will let Van Gaal get away with it.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The first court date for Diego’s hearing was scheduled for two days later. The whole CID team attended the hearing, including Olivier, who had just been discharged by Neven. Marcel had also turned up but André was nowhere to be seen.

 

“André couldn’t make it,” said Marcel apologetically, “He was too shocked after hearing the news. He doesn’t feel like he could cope with the trial.”

 

Marco found this a bit odd, but he didn’t get time to probe this any further because the hearing had started. It wasn’t a pleasant one. The family members of the victims were distraught with grief, partially thanks to Mats’ eloquent speech. It took several security guards to stop them from attacking Diego. Diego was calm and accepting, not fighting for his case at all. In fact, his defence lawyer, a young man probably fresh out of law school, was a lot more eager to defend the case than Diego himself. 

 

“This is probably the easiest case I’ve ever worked on. He’s not even defending himself,” said Mats after the hearing was over. 

 

“He was a police officer after all,” said David quietly, “He wanted to bring justice for those girls too.”

 

When they got back to the CID, they were greeted with José Mourinho in the office. The smug look on José usually spelt trouble for them, so everyone tensed up. 

 

“Good afternoon gentlemen,” José smiled particularly politely, “I have received information that someone has been spying on a law-abiding citizen without a search warrant. We also have someone hacking into the systems of a couple hospitals to get the medical record of a patient, again without her consent.”

 

If Kehli was concerned, he did not show it. Instead, he replied quite calmly, “Those are serious accusations Mr Mourinho. Do you have proof for any of them?”

 

José looked as though he was waiting for the exact question, “Of course Mr Kehl. I, unlike some people, never act without concrete evidence and proof. You will soon meet Mr Bellerín, who was found spying on Mr Van Gaal. As for the hacking incident, we have the evidence here.” He handed Kehli a flash drive. “It contains data from both of the hospitals’ network. Someone has managed to trace the hacking incidents to the same IP address. He’s still working on the identity of the hacker but rest assured that the person behind it will be found in no time. And he or she will face some serious consequences.”

 

“Who is working on the identity of the hacker?” asked David sharply, “How can we even be sure he’s not…”

 

“We have some of our IT&S work contracted out to some other companies,” said José, “I assure you that the young man working on this is one of the best in the field. We will hand you the research results of course and you will see for yourself that he has done his job without any bias. Why don’t you check what I’ve just given you, while we wait for Mr Bellerín to show up.”

 

David gave Joe a quick look and fell silent. Joe started going through the file José gave them while everyone else waited in silence. Marco couldn’t help but start to panic. He knew perfectly well what was going to happen if they had found out about Alexis and Héctor. Both of them would be in big trouble, especially Alexis. The only way to get him out of this would be…

 

“Ah Mr Bellerín and Professor Van Gaal,” said José jovially as both were escorted into the CID by one of José’s personal security guards, “how nice of you to join us. We were just talking about the unfortunate incident that took place earlier this afternoon. Professor, why don’t you elaborate on that a bit more for the benefit of these gentlemen.”

 

“Of course,” said Van Gaal briskly. Any of the desperation and worry that was so obvious in his voice in that recording was now long gone. “I have suspected that I was being followed for the past several days. My suspicion was finally confirmed this afternoon. I was on the phone with a friend and I picked a private place because it was a matter of a quite personal nature. But as I was speaking to my friend, I heard some noise from behind. When I turned around, I found Mr Bellerín crouching behind a bush with a voice recorder. Unfortunately Mr Bellerín has managed to wipe the recording clean before I could ask him to play it. But I am sure he has been following me and spying on me for whatever reason.” 

 

Héctor’s face was pale but he replied calmly, “I was trying to find out information on our next exam. I’m having some real trouble with your Econometrics class. I find the lectures hard to follow and the maths too advanced. So I thought if I get some information on what’s coming up in our exam, I can study better. I’m really sorry about that professor. I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

Marco had to give it to Héctor. He was so cool under pressure and came up with a perfect answer, which made sense yet wasn’t severe enough to get him into real trouble. José apparently thought the same thing, as the smug smile on his face faltered for a second.

 

“Well,” said Van Gaal angrily, “it’s totally unacceptable behaviour Mr Bellerín. You’ll have to pay for your action and as department head, I will have no choice but to suspend…”

 

“I’m afraid you cannot do that professor,” intervened Mats smoothly, “According to the conduct code of TU Dortmund, a student may be subject to a verbal caution and some mandatory educational classes for their first disciplinary violation attempt if said attempt has not resulted in any unfair benefit to the violator. The record of such disciplinary actions shall also be expunged when the student graduates, provided that no further violations occur. Since you’ve just said that your conversation was personal and Mr Bellerín had failed to obtain a voice recording of the said conversation, I believe he has not gained any unfair advantage for the exam. Unless Mr Héctor has a record already, you have no authority to suspend him or give him any punishment more severe.”

 

“But he’s been following me all this time,” yelled Van Gaal, his face red, “surely he has overheard some useful information.”

 

Mats turned to Héctor, “Mr Bellerín, have you been following Professor Van Gaal before this incident?”

 

“No,” said Héctor firmly, “today was the first time I have ever attempted to eavesdrop on Professor Van Gaal and I have failed.”

 

“There,” said Mats with a triumphant smile, “unless you have proof that Mr Bellerín has been following you before today, we cannot possibly accuse Mr Bellerín of such violations.”

 

Marco watched with immense satisfaction as Van Gaal’s face slowly turned purple. José on the other hand, recovered quickly enough. “Thank you very much Mr Hummels, for your in-depth knowledge of all areas of regulations,” said José sarcastically. Mats smiled and bowed in mock appreciation. Marco tried to kept a straight face while inwardly cheering Mats on. José’s eyes darkened with anger. 

 

The happiness however, was short-lived. When Joe emerged with a grim look on his face, Marco felt his heart sank.

 

“The information seems satisfactory,” said Joe reluctantly, “There was no sign of modification or manipulation I can find.”

 

“Well, well, well,” said José, hardly able to contain the glee in his voice, “It seems like we do have a valid accusation after all.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back :) Well, sort of. I've arrived in China safely and have dealt with some business. Thanks to the long flight (and possibly my age because I could no longer fall asleep on the flight...), I was able to get this chapter in on time. The next two weeks will still be sort of unpredictable, as I'm planning to make some trips in China and SE Asia. I will try to update on time but it's not a guarantee.


	27. Case 4 - Unless You Know the Code, It Has No Meaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexis got busted. Kehli sacrificed himself to keep Alexis out of real trouble. Lewy introduced Marco to a new hobby, which led to some shocking discovery.

“Unless we can find out who the hacker is, we’re still at a standstill,” said Kehli evenly. José nodded, “I agree with you Mr Kehl. But we’ll see. My lad has been working on it for some time and I’m sure we will have the hacker in front of you in no time.” With that, he left with Van Gaal, who took Héctor away as well.

 

Once they were safely gone, Marco turned to Kehli and found him looking extremely worried. “Kehli,” Marco opened his mouth but nothing came out. Quite frankly, he didn’t know what to say. It seemed only a matter of time before José found out about Alexis.

 

“We’ll talk somewhere else,” said David assertively and Marco understood what he meant immediately. “You should come with us too Mats. We’ll fill you in on everything that we know.”

 

So half an hour later, they found themselves in Olivier’s old ward in Neven’s clinic again. To nobody’s surprise, Héctor and Alexis were there as well.

 

“I’m sorry I’ve messed up,” said Héctor the moment they had entered the room, “They set me up. Van Gaal must know I’ve been following him.”

 

“What do you mean he set you up?” cried Erik in surprise.

 

“He had faked that conversation. He wasn’t talking about anything important at all. He was just doing it so I would follow him,” said Héctor painfully, “He even said ‘when do you think that silly boy will find out that we know about him already’. That’s when I realised that I was doomed. As I tried to leave, I stumbled on a fallen branch which made some noise. Not that it matters. He knew I was there anyway. I don’t know how he knows that I have been following him though. I thought I was being careful.” Héctor finished miserably and he was close to tears now, “I’m really sorry I’ve blown it.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” said Olivier forcefully. “I should apologise to you for dragging you into this. I’m sorry that you almost got suspended.”

 

“Olivier is right,” said Kehli kindly, “It’s not your fault Héctor. You’ve done really well and provided us with useful information. And it’s some pretty convincing excuse that you came up with on the spot.”

 

“Well,” mumbled Héctor, “It’s also thanks to Mats. Otherwise I’m sure Van Gaal would take it out on me.”

 

“That’s what I’m here for,” said Mats smiling slightly, “I didn’t slave my way through law school for nothing. But back to the case, it’s pretty clear what they are playing at now. Mourinho is trying to get your lot suspended so Van Gaal could get out of Dortmund.”

 

“That must be what he was telling Van Gaal to reassure him then,” said Mesut. 

 

“It must be,” agreed Marco, “The question is, what can we do about it?” He turned to Alexis, “Once they find out that you’re behind the hacking incident, you will be in serious trouble.”

 

“Can they find out about it or is Mourinho just bluffing?” Joe asked Alexis, who sighed. “It really depends on who’s working on it and how good he or she is.” When Joe raised a skeptical eyebrow, Alexis added hastily, “Look, no technology is fool-proof. There’s no code that can’t be broken. It’s just that most of the people aren’t good enough or don’t have the resources to do it. But if they have enough time and computing power, and can write clever algorithm, I don’t see how my code can’t be broken. I know only a handful of people who are that good so I guess it can help us find out who’s behind it if I do get busted.”

 

“Alexis this is a serious matter,” cried Erik, “If they trace it back to you, you’re looking at real jail time. Hacking into someone else’s computer and even worse, to steal someone else’s medical record, those are crimes, not just civil offences.”

 

“If I have to go to jail to sort this out, I will,” said Alexis firmly.

 

“No, you will not,” said Kehli with an even stronger tone, “No one is going to jail for something we have caused. If it comes down to it, I will take full responsibilities for that. I’ve given Alexis the order and he is merely helping the police. As for me, the charge is much smaller as I’m just bypassing protocols, not committing crimes.”

 

“But that will get you suspended just like Mourinho has always wanted,” cried Joe, “We can’t let you do that.”

 

“It’s the best option so far,” stated Kehli almost matter-of-factly. “We have to do damage control and this option presents the smallest amount of impact. You lads can and will operate without me to solve the case and get me out.”

 

Marco looked desperately David but was disappointed to see the same frustrated and resigned look on David’s face. Apparently nothing in the nature of a brain wave has occurred to David and he was forced to accept Kehli’s decision.

 

“Can’t any one of us take the blame?” asked Erik desperately, “Sure it’s better than getting you suspended.”

 

“I’m afraid that’s not going to work,” sighed Mats, “As your supervisor, Kehli is responsible for your actions. Even if one of you volunteer, Kehli would still be punished. Kehli’s right; him taking the blame is the best strategic option at the moment.”

 

Marco looked around and saw dejected faces everywhere. Reluctant as he might be, Marco had to admit that José and Van Gaal had outsmarted them this time. He saw Olivier and Neven exchange a quick look and frowned. Neven had clearly formed some sort of friendship with Olivier during his stay there. He wasn’t sure if he liked that idea. Neven was never one to follow the conventions and rules, which, combined with Olivier’s blatant disregard for protocols sometimes, was the last thing they needed now. 

 

“I have a question,” asked İlkay, “How does Mourinho know that Héctor’s been following Van Gaal and that someone has hacked into the hospital system. I mean it’s pretty obvious that he’s managed to get some tip-off.”

 

“That is pretty suspicious,” agreed David, “I simply can’t imagine him knowing where to look without some sort of tip-offs. Maybe he’s been spying on us?”

 

“Do you think he could have put a secret monitor in this room?” asked Erik excitedly as he started looking around immediately.

 

“It’s not possible,” said Neven, “Olivier has been alone in this room for the past two weeks and he hasn't noticed anything. Even when he was asleep, Mario has kept an eye on the room.” 

 

Momentarily deflated, Erik came up with another theory at the drop of the hat, “They could have placed some bug on us so they would hear our conversation.”

 

“We’ve thought about that too,” said Alexis, “Once you have decided to use this place, Neven came to me for some help on enhanced security. I’ve made an alarm that would go off if such device is in the room.”

 

“How does this work exactly?” asked Shinji with genuine academic curiosity. But Kehli cut him off, “Suffice it to say that our conversation inside this room is safe. But it wouldn’t be that hard to figure out what we may be up to even if our tail just watched who went into this room or even this clinic. When they saw Héctor walking in here, they must know he was involved. They may have also guessed that we have enlisted Neven’s help, especially since Van Gaal had paid him a visit before.”

 

“And considering we have a leak with the Dortmund police, it wouldn’t surprise me at all that this person has followed us here after work,” said David darkly.

 

“Precisely,” said Kehli. He now turned to Olivier, “You have to be honest with me Olivier, how many other people have you dragged into this? We need to warn them now and they need to stop. It’s too risky with José watching us.”

 

“Just Woj,” said Olivier looking a little uneasy, “I’ve asked him to snoop around to see if he can find anything useful from his contacts. He should be fine. He’s done this hundreds of times before.” When Kehli glared at him, Olivier quickly added, “Fine, fine, I’ll tell him to stop and be careful.”

 

“We really are in a fucked up situation, aren’t we?” summarised İlkay and nobody bothered to answer.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marco debated for a while if he should mention any of these to Lewy. On one hand, he thought Lewy might be able to provide some useful insight into this mess. But on the other hand, Marco felt that too many people had been involved in this already. In the end, he had decided to forget about work so he could enjoy a pleasant evening with Lewy. 

 

Lewy, as it turned out, had a surprise for him. “Would you like to go to a presentation tonight?” he asked Marco casually during dinner, “A very famous professor in semiotics is giving a talk called ‘History of Semiotics and Its Use in Cryptanalysis’ at the Dortmund Municipal Library today.”

 

“I didn’t know you were interested in that,” said Marco in a surprised tone. Lewy merely smiled, “I like reading about history and you come across those too often in history to ignore them. Our ancestors were much more subtle in conveying their messages, especially the important ones. It’s quite fascinating really, to see the hidden meaning behind each word and the use of classic cryptography to encode their messages. It’s an art that’s almost lost in this digital era.”

 

“Don’t let Alexis and Joe hear you say that,” said Marco with a faint smile. Lewy laughed, “I’ll keep that in mind thank you. But what do you say?”

 

“Yeah sure,” said Marco smiling, “It does sound fascinating and I could use a diversion now.”

 

The lecture turned out to be an extremely interesting one. Marco was totally hooked. The speaker, Professor Feldman from Stanford University, was very knowledgeable and extremely engaging. Marco hardly noticed the lapse of time and was thus surprised to find that the two-hour long talk had come to an end. 

 

“But he had only covered Roman and Greece era,” protested Marco, which made Lewy laugh, “I want to hear more.”

 

“Marco dearest,” Lewy said with the tone of a patient parent placating his overly needy child, “you can’t learn the whole subject of semiotics in two hours. Let’s go talk to the professor. He can probably recommend you some further reading materials.”

 

Professor Feldman turned out to be equally pleasant in person. Marco soon entered into a lively discussion with him about Egyptian semiotics. 

 

“Here are some books that I highly recommend if you are really interested in the area,” said Professor Feldman as he started to write those books down on a piece of paper, “I’ve listed them in the order of difficulty. The first couple should be easy enough for any layman to understand.”

 

“Thank you so much professor,” Marco took the piece of paper and folded it carefully, “It’s been such a pleasure talking to you today.”

 

“I’m glad I can finally make it to Dortmund,” said the professor with a somewhat sad smile.

 

“Why draws you to Dortmund?” asked Lewy. 

 

“Well, a friend of mine who was also very interested in semiotics had been asking me to come here to give a lecture for a long time,” said Professor Feldman sadly, “I’ve never been able to do it until it’s too late.”

 

“I’m so sorry professor,” said Lewy sincerely, “I didn’t mean to…”

 

“It’s quite all right,” Professor Feldman reassured Lewy that he was not upset by his question at all. “In any case, I’m sure Jogi would be pleased that I’ve finally made this trip to meet the community here in Dortmund.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Marco blurted out, “Is your friend Professor Jogi Löw?”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Kehli, Kehli, where are you?” cried Marco when he rushed into the CID the next morning, “I have some additional information on…”

 

“Kehli’s not here,” said David and he looked extremely downcast, “They have traced it back to Alexis so Kehli stepped up to take the responsibility of Alexis’ actions. He’s now officially suspended.”

 

“What?” cried Marco, the new information on Löw temporarily forgotten, “But, but, how could they find out so soon?”

 

“I don’t know,” sighed David, burying his face in his hands, “but that’s not the worst.”

 

“What could possibly be worse?”

 

“Mr Mourinho has requested that the case be closed,” said Jürgen, whose appearance at the CID was so rare that Marco knew this would not end well, “on the ground that the evidence of Löw being the murderer is overwhelming and we’re harassing innocent people without even producing any real proof.”

 

“So we’re just going to let Van Gaal slip away?” cried Olivier, “That’s not fair. I for one do not plan to stop investigating Van Gaal until…”

 

“You will not do that and even if you can, that will also be impossible,” interrupted Jürgen, “Van Gaal has received the confirmation for his transfer to Stuttgart and will move there in the next couple days.”

 

Nobody knew what to do at the CID. With Kehli suspended and Van Gaal ready to leave the city, they had to concede defeat. Marco had never experienced something like this before. Of course, he had plenty of experiences with unsolved cases. But that was usually due to lack of evidence and they were usually clueless about who the real culprits were. To know almost for certain the truth behind a crime but could not pursue it because of their legal responsibilities and the intervention of others was utterly frustrating. 

 

David was again, the first to recover. “There’s really nothing we can do now. I suggest we go around doing our usual business. From what I’ve heard from Jürgen, Kehli’s suspension should not be permanent. What were you trying to tell Kehli just then Marco?”

 

“It doesn’t really matter now,” muttered Marco, “It wasn’t something that useful anyway. I’ll tell you later but I feel like taking a day off work now.”

 

“I understand,” said David knowingly, “Go ahead and get away from work. Whoever else feels like taking a day off can do the same. Everyone has been working hard enough lately. Joe and I will be here so we should be able to handle the normal cases.”

 

In the end, Marco took the day off along with İlkay, Shinji Olivier and Erik. Mesut insisted on staying to help Joe and David and Olivier didn’t protest. Marco didn’t tell Lewy about his day off. He wanted to spend the day on his own. So he went to the library to check out those books professor Feldman had recommended to him and busied himself with reading about semiotics and classic cryptography at his own flat.

 

The first book he read was called “The Code Book: The Science of Secrecy from Ancient Egypt to Quantum Cryptography”, which covered the classic encryption methods through the ages in great details. Marco soon found himself breaking those codes in the books and felt like he was back in elementary school, solving the puzzles. It wasn’t too hard once he had got the hang of it. The more he practiced, the better he was at it. He was so engrossed that he completely forgot it was dinner time until Lewy knocked on his flat door.

 

“I’ve brought take-out. You like Chinese food, don’t you?” smiled Lewy, holding out a bag that smelled so good that Marco’s stomach grumbled.

 

“Yeah I like it. And honestly I’m so hungry I can eat a horse now,” smiled Marco as he let Lewy in to his flat.

 

The first five minutes of supper was completely silent, as Marco was devouring the food with such fervent appetite that he didn’t have time or energy for anything else. Lewy, on the other hand, ate in a much more civilised manner and watched Marco with an amused expression.

 

“Why has fascinated you so much that you forgot to have lunch?” asked Lewy after Marco had stopped to take a breath.

 

“How did you know…” asked Marco.

 

“Come on Marco,” laughed Lewy, “You eyes turned green when you saw me with the food. You’re eating with such abandon as if this was your last meal.”

 

“Fine,” muttered Marco, not at all embarrassed by his poor manner. He wasn’t having dinner with Mats anyway. “I was reading the book about cryptography and started solving those codes in the book. I guess I’ve just got, eh, a bit carried away.”

 

“You don’t say,” smiled Lewy, “I hope I haven’t opened a can of worms, introducing you to semiotics and cryptography.”

 

“Well,” said Marco absent-mindedly, returning to his food, “you always introduce me to new things and that’s what I love about you.”

 

Both of them froze. Marco’s folk was half-way to his mouth and now suspended in mid air. Lewy seemed, for once in his life, completely lost for words. Marco felt a giant blush creeping up his face. Why did he say that? He had never told Lewy that he loved him before. 

 

Lewy was the first to break the silence, “And I love you because you’re willing to try those things with me. Also because you never pretend, especially when you’re hungry.” He said with a smirk at Marco’s indignant “Hey!”. Then, before Marco knew it, Lewy was standing right in front of him, kissing him like he had never kissed him before.

 

Once they broke the heated the kiss, both felt a bit shy. “So,” said Marco hastily, more to break the spell of embarrassment than anything, “I’ve really enjoyed that talk.”

 

“Yes,” said Lewy, now returning to his usual cool self, “It’s quite rare for Professor Feldman to make such a long trip just to give a speech. He is after all, the most respected scholar in the field and extremely busy. Too bad Jogi Löw could not be there to attend his talk.”

 

“Löw,” murmured Marco as something had registered vaguely in his mind, “Löw,” He tried to think hard and suddenly it hit him with the force of stampeding elephant. Marco literally jumped into the air and went to find the case files of Thomas’ murder, ignoring Lewy’s “Marco what’s the matter”. After knocking over a couple things in his haste to locate the right file, Marco had finally found it. He was holding the picture of Löw’s suicide notes and almost gasped. Cristiano was right. Löw was trying to send them a message, it was just that no one could read it at the time. Marco grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and started writing the notes down.

 

**M** y dear friends and family, I’m writing this note as my last words to this world. 

**U** ndoing the past is never possible but I wish I could because I’m deeply ashamed of what I’ve done. 

**R** est in Peace Thomas, for I have failed your trust. 

**D** emons had possessed me. 

**E** ven now, I could not explain the madness I had experienced that night. 

**R** aw jealousy was the only thing I felt then. 

**B** ut none of these could be my excuse for committing such a terrible crime. 

**L** et me suffer the physical pains I’ve experienced. 

**O** nly that could ease the suffering of my conscience. 

**N** evertheless, the punishments I’ve received could not bring Thomas back to life, nor could it be enough to redeem my soul. 

**D** eath is my only way out and I’m taking my own life with the hope that justice will be done and I will be judged in the greatest court of all.

 

He then circled the first letter of every single sentence, wrote them down on another piece of paper and got:

 

“M U R D E R B L O N D”

 

“Holy cricket,” Marco clasped a hand over his mouth when he read the sentence. It seemed like this case wasn’t so hopeless after all.

 

After supper, Lewy had to leave to go to Frankfurt. “I’m sorry Marco but I have an unplanned business trip that I need to go to. One of my clients in Frankfurt requested my presence as we’re at the final stage of the project.” Seeing the disappointed look on Marco’s face, Lewy smiled apologetically and added, “It shouldn’t take too long and I will definitely be back for the weekend. I think we should go somewhere for the weekend, you know, to do something special.”

 

“Fine,” pouted Marco, “But you will make up for it this weekend.”

 

“I most certainly shall,” winked Lewy, “I’m definitely looking forward to it.”

 

It wasn’t that Marco was a needy person. He was well used to the fact that Lewy had to go on business trips often and he had to spend those nights by himself. But he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he could not spend the night with his boyfriend after they had confessed their love for each other. So he went to bed feeling grumpy and settled into an uneasy sleep.

 

When Marco was woken up again in the middle of the night by a sharp telephone ring, he seriously hated his life. Why did all the criminals have to pick the most inconvenient time to commit their sordid crimes? Couldn’t they work regularly hours like everybody else. Surprised by the ludicrousness of his own thoughts, Marco picked up his phone grumpily, “What now?”

 

“Marco it’s David,” David’s voice was tense, which sobered Marco up more than any coffee in the world, “We need you in the office right now. Van Gaal has just been killed.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like my little code from previous chapter :) I've been really interested in cryptography since I was a kid and almost picked it as my major. Any guesses on who the blond is?
> 
> We now have the real case 4, which is Van Gaal's death. We're getting closer to the end and more things will be revealed in the following cases (case 4, 5, and 6).


	28. Case 4 - Satan Strikes Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satan striked again with the Hitman. They met their enemies for the first time. The Angel and the Kid came to the rescue but the real hero was a mysterious someone. Meanwhile, the team at the CID was trying to figure out what had happened with Van Gaal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The italicised part is not from Marco's POV.

_The night was quiet and peaceful, with a bright full moon and stars twinkling in the clear dark sky. Two dark figures emerged out of nowhere outside Louis Van Gaal’s house, which was situated in an upscale neighbourhood. Both of them walked stealthily to the entrance of the house, which was guarded with a passcode. The shorter one of the two hissed menacingly, “Freaking bastard. A simple university professor doesn’t need this kind of security.”_

_**  
** _

_His taller companion didn’t seemed too bothered by the injustice of it all. Instead, he merely whispered, “Can you break it without waking up anyone?”_

_**  
** _

_The first man shot him a rather accusing look, “Of course I can. Something as simple as this? Don’t insult my intelligence.” Sure enough, after five minutes, the front door unlocked with a silent click._

_**  
** _

_Both men walked upstairs, their footsteps muffled by the lush velvet carpet. After checking all the other rooms, the taller one signalled to his companion and they headed for the master bedroom. The only occupant in the room was Louis Van Gaal, who was busy going through his documents. By the time he realised that two unwelcome guests had made an appearance at his bedroom, it was already too late._

_**  
** _

_“Hello professor,” said the taller one casually while silently blocking the window. “I figure that we should have a little conversation together, don’t you think? My friend felt really bad about obtaining your wife’s medical record without her approval and he would like to apologise.”_

_**  
** _

_“You,” cried Van Gaal when the shorter man quickly lifted his mask to reveal his face. “You leave my wife out of this.”_

_**  
** _

_“Is that what Mourinho has got over you? Your family?” asked the taller man quietly._

_**  
** _

_“Mr Mourinho and I don’t have any relationship that is beyond that of a mayor and a resident of his city,” said Van Gaal with composure, though the trembling of his hands betrayed his fear._

_**  
** _

_The shorter man did not seem to have much patience, “You will tell us your involvement in the murder of Thomas Müller and Löw. And you will tell us who you’ve been laundering money for. Otherwise,” he clicked the gun he had been pointing at Van Gaal, “your family will be in greater danger than they’re in now. They don’t call me the Hitman for nothing.”_

_**  
** _

_Van Gaal’s eyes widened with horror, “Leave my family alone! You can do whatever you want with me as long as you don’t hurt them. They’ve done nothing!”_

_**  
** _

_“Well, you better make sure they won’t get hurt then. The truth, now!”_

_**  
** _

_When Van Gaal still looked defiant, the taller man said, “Besides, we’ve already gathered some information about you and your friend Zlatan from the Source.” Van Gaal’s face visibly blanched on the mention of the name, which was exactly what the two needed to see._

_**  
** _

_“If I do tell you some useful information,” said Van Gaal hesitantly, “Mind you I cannot tell you much because otherwise my family will still be in grave danger.”_

_**  
** _

_“That’s okay,” said the taller man, who seemed to be the more sympathetic one out of the two, “You just need to give us some tips to point us to the right direction and we will find out the rest.” Van Gaal shot a mistrustful look at the shorter man, or the Hitman according to himself, who laughed, “I’m the Hitman, not the Source nor the Mastermind. I won’t be the one sneaking around scooping information. But,” he paused significantly, “if we do find your information valuable, I could help protect your family from potential retribution. As you can tell from my nickname, I’m pretty good at that.”_

_**  
** _

_“Fine,” Van Gaal took a deep breath, “I have to start from the beginning. I was contacted by a certain someone, I cannot reveal his name, to help him with some delicate business of his. Given the nature of my occupation, I was capable of helping him and the price he had offered was quite hard to resist. So I started working with him to help him legalise his money.”_

_**  
** _

_“So you were indeed involved in the money laundering business,” said the taller man, his voice neutral, “We have suspected something of the sort.”_

_**  
** _

_Van Gaal looked at him and laughed bitterly, “The one who came to find me was not someone you want to refuse. I know this would get out eventually but I had no choice. So I agreed.”_

_**  
** _

_“When did this start?” asked the Hitman._

_**  
** _

_“It dated back to more than 10 years ago,” said Van Gaal, “His business was already pretty big and he had useful connections in different countries, which helped him cover his illegal activities. I have worked with him and some of his family and friends. In return, he had realised his promises. I was made the head of my department, my daughters were sent to expensive boarding schools thanks to his money, and my wife received the best treatment for her illness. But I have feared discovery. I always have.”_

_**  
** _

_“When did you realise that things might get out?”_

_**  
** _

_“It was a couple months ago when the man I’ve been working for was murdered,” said Van Gaal. Upon seeing the shocked look on both of the intruders’ faces, he laughed humourlessly, “He wasn’t a great fella to start with and I’m sure he’s picked up a few enemies along the way. I thought his death would be the start of the fall of all of us so I panicked when Jogi told me about Thomas’ idea of a project on money laundering. I alerted one of my contacts and I soon realised that our business was what Thomas was after. When his collaborator failed to get me out of Dortmund, I had to take actions to protect myself. I started planning Thomas’ murder with the help of a friend of mine within the Dortmund police. He gave me all the tips on how to avoid detection. I knew I had to get rid of not only Thomas, but also Jogi. So I asked Zlatan for help. One of his men went to the baseball game to steal Jogi’s baseball bat for me. After you had detained Jogi, my officer friend sneaked in to kill Jogi. I didn’t ask him to torture Jogi though,” he added hastily, “I never have and I never would. I didn’t want Jogi to suffer. I have nothing against him personally. So I gave my friend the poison. But he, like me, took matters into his own hands. That was when I realised that the collaborator never intended to get me out of this mess. I was little more than a pawn in a big chess game for him.”_

_**  
** _

_“Who’s the collaborator, José? What’s his or her relationship to the one that got murdered? Can you point us to your contact person? Who’s your friend within the police? Is he also working for the collaborator?” The Hitman started firing questions and Van Gaal who shook his head and said, “I can’t give you names. All I can tell you is that the one who was killed wasn’t German. My collaborator is someone of great importance and in a position of power. He’s smart, cunning and ruthless. He has planned every single step to his advantage. You may be good and your group might have succeeded before. But you won’t this time. Not against him.”_

_**  
** _

_“We seem to be in the habit of creating miracles,” said the taller man coolly. Van Gaal merely smiled sadly, “Either way, it matters little to me now, as I cannot live after I’ve told you this much,” he fixed his eyes on the taller man, “Will you promise me that you will look after my family? Do I have your word?”_

_**  
** _

_Before the taller man could say anything, the Hitman intervened, “As long as you give us some names, just one, we’ll prom…” His words were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. The intruders looked at each other and they could see the nervous looks in each other’s eyes. This moment of distraction proved to be a crucial mistake, as they quickly realised when they heard the noise made by Van Gaal. Both whipped around to see Van Gaal collapsing to the floor, a small vial slipping from his hand. Cursing loudly, the taller man rushed to Van Gaal’s side to scoop him up. The Hitman picked up the vial but it was empty, “What have you taken?”_

_**  
** _

_“It’s a most fitting way for me to die, isn’t it?” rasped Van Gaal, “Jogi would be pleased.”_

_**  
** _

_“Why did you take that suicide pill?” cried the taller man in exasperation._

_**  
** _

_“I didn’t want my wife to see me with my brain blown out,” said Van Gaal, his voice fading and he started to pant and gasp as if he was having a seizure. The Hitman abandoned the vial and rushed forward, “Tell us the name of the collaborator. Tell us if he’s José!” But Van Gaal ignored him and with all his remaining strength, he grabbed hold of the taller man’s clothes, “My family, promise me!” The taller man paused for a second but finally nodded, “I promise.” With that, Van Gaal let go and went limp._

_**  
** _

_“I didn’t know you as being that compassionate, Satan,” said the Hitman as he watched his companion, Satan, laid Van Gaal down carefully._

_**  
** _

_“I’m simply complying with a dying man’s last wish,” said Satan calmly, “Whatever Van Gaal had done, his family is innocent and we'll make sure they shall not be harmed.” He paused to listen, which was quite unnecessary because the footsteps of Van Gaal’s wife was clearly getting closer. “Let’s get out of here, now!”_

_**  
** _

_As both men scrambled to get out through the window, the bedroom door swung open and a high-pitched shriek broke the night silence. Not daring to chance a look back, both men got out one after the other. Once they had landed safely, both started to run for their lives._

_**  
** _

_Unfortunately for them, they were not the only ones out and about that night. As they turned around the corner, they found that their way to their car was blocked by a group of people._

_**  
** _

_“Evening gentlemen,” Zlatan Ibrahimović greeted them with a big toothy grin, “taking your nightly stroll I see. Would you care to join me for a little chat? I believe you have finished your business for tonight.”_

_**  
** _

_“Fuck off,” growled the Hitman as he pointed his gun directly at Zlatan’s heart. Satan quickly followed suit. So did all of Zlatan’s men. Zlatan himself however, seemed to think that such gesture was quite unnecessary._

_**  
** _

_“Now you’re just being impolite,” Zlatan smirked, “But since I like you, here’s a piece of advice: they call me Hades for a good reason. You do not point your gun at the God of the Underworld.”_

_**  
** _

_“That’s funny,” said Satan, his hand gripping tightly on his gun, ready to fire at any moment, “They call me Satan. I suppose it’s time to find out which one of us will rule the underworld.”_

_**  
** _

_“Interesting concept,” said Zlatan pensively, “But of course I will win, because I am Zlatan Ibrahimović.”_

_**  
** _

_“How do you know we’ll be here?” asked Satan, merely playing for time, as Zlatan’s men circled even closer to them._

_**  
** _

_“Well,” said Zlatan matter-of-factly, “a very wise someone has told me that my dear friend Van Gaal might be taken care of tonight. It’s quite a sad event. I’ve always liked Louis. So it would be a shame if I miss the opportunity to meet his finishers.”_

_**  
** _

_“That’s pretty bad idea then,” said the Hitman hotly, “Because we’ll finish you lot as well.”_

_**  
** _

_Zlatan seemed genuinely surprised by this suggestion, “But how is this possible? I am Zlatan Ibrahimović.”_

_**  
** _

_Satan couldn’t help but chance a quick sideway look at the Hitman and was unsurprised to find his companion red in the face with anger. He sighed inwardly, the Hitman was never good with human emotions and could never understand the complexity of different personalities._

_**  
** _

_“Well, here’s how!” cried the Hitman and he started firing bullets at Zlatan._

_**  
** _

_Satan had to give it to Zlatan. His arrogance was not completely unfounded. For a tall well-built man, he was extremely quick and flexible. Ducking to dodge the Hitman’s bullet, Zlatan drew out his gun at the speed of light and managed to fire at an awkward angle before any of his men had time to react. He was so fast that the Hitman, though short and agile, only avoided being hit in the nick of time._

_**  
** _

_The fight that ensued was a messy one. Satan soon lost track of the duel between the Hitman and Zlatan, because he was too busy fighting with Zlatan’s men. He was deeply thankful that none of them was as nearly good as Zlatan and his training both on the football field and in the karate gym had paid off. He had managed to take out two of Zlatan’s men but there were still two left and he was running out bullets. To add insult to injury, a cry of pain from the Hitman could be heard over the general din of the fight. Cursing loudly, Satan didn’t dare to go and look after the Hitman because Zlatan, who was clearly unharmed, had joined in his fight. This made things ten times more difficult. Satan soon found himself gasping for breath from all the ducking and dodging. It was all he could do though. It seemed only a matter of time before he was taken down as well._

_**  
** _

_Just when he was about to give up hope, the blinding light of a car appeared out of nowhere. The car screeched to a halt and two men, or more precisely, a man and a boy came out of the car, both armed._

_**  
** _

_“Kid, Angel!” cried Satan with great relief._

_**  
** _

_“The Mastermind sent us,” said the Angel almost casually, as he swiftly dodged the bullet despite his lanky figure, “How’s the Hitman?”_

_**  
** _

_“He’s hurt! He needs your help!” cried Satan and without a word, the Angel hurried over to attend to the Hitman._

_**  
** _

_With the Kid by his side, Satan felt a bit more secure and they were able to put up some fight against Zlatan and his two minions. Unfortunately, the Kid lacked experience in real fighting. Zlatan was the first to realise that and he changed tactics to focus on the Kid, clearly wanting to take him out first. Satan watched helplessly as the Kid struggled against Zlatan while he could do nothing to help because the two minions kept him busy enough. The grunting noise of the Hitman was growing fainter and the Angel was cursing loudly._

_**  
** _

_“Why don’t you just surrender?” laughed Zlatan as he easily fended off the attacks from the Kid, “Your friend is hurt. If you don’t get him to the hospital soon, he may not make it.”_

_**  
** _

_“I’d rather die than surrender to you!” yelled the Kid, his face red from anger or exhaustion Satan could not tell._

_**  
** _

_“So young and naive,” said Zlatan lazily, “It’s not a shame to surrender to me. I am Zlatan Ibrahimović after all.”_

_**  
** _

_“For heaven’s sake,” cried Satan, unable to take Zlatan’s ego anymore, “we know who the bloody hell you are!”_

_**  
** _

_Before Zlatan could preach more his superiority, which judging by the look on his face was something he was very keen on, the blasting siren of a police car made all of them freeze on the spot. The last thing they needed right now was the involvement of the police. Satan and Zlatan looked at each other, not sure what to do next. Neither wanted to lower their guns but they couldn’t afford to be caught either. As the police car drew closer, Zlatan was the first one to back out though, “You got lucky this time. But don’t worry. I will get you eventually. Zlatan always gets what he wants.”_

_**  
** _

_Once Zlatan and his men were out of sight, Satan and the Kid rushed over to the Hitman. A quick look was enough to tell how bad the situation was. The Hitman was already unconscious, his face white as paper. “We have to go now!” bellowed Satan over the siren. Before they could leave the scene though, the police car stopped right in front them. The door banged open and the man inside greeted them with a flirtatious smile, “Sorry I’m late. It’s pretty hard to drive with only one arm. But I guess the hero always arrives last to save the day. Now, why don’t you get in and take the driving seat? My left arm is killing me.”_

_**  
** _

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**  
**

“What has happened with Van Gaal? What do we know so far?” asked Marco when he stepped into the CID.

**  
**

“He was dead,” said Erik listlessly. He was rather pale and tired-looking. Marco wasn’t sure why a day off would make Erik look even worse than before. He wondered vaguely if something had happened between Erik and Neven but they had far more pressing matters to discuss.

**  
**

“How? Who has found the body?” asked Marco.

**  
**

“Mrs Van Gaal phoned us,” said David, looking extremely serious, “She ran into two intruders at their house and found her husband dead. Those suspects left by the window when Mrs Van Gaal came into the room. Unfortunately, Mrs Van Gaal was very fragile and easily affected. So upon finding her husband’s body, she passed out from the shock. When she woke up an hour later, she phoned us right away to report the death of her husband.”

**  
**

“Does she remember anything about the suspects?” asked Mesut eagerly.

**  
**

“She didn’t provide enough details to create a criminal profile,” said Joe while checking his notes, “they were wearing black with their heads covered. Mrs Van Gaal only saw them from behind so she had no clue what they look like anyway. She did mention that one of them was quite short, maybe 5’7. The other one seemed taller and stronger.”

**  
**

“That’s not a lot to work with,” muttered Marco, “What’s the cause of death?”

**  
**

“Cyanide poisoning,” said David succinctly.

**  
**

“Fitting, isn’t it?” said Joe bitterly, “That’s how he had killed Löw. Justice will be done after all.”

**  
**

“So you think the suspects poisoned him?” asked Marco uneasily. This whole thing didn’t feel right to him somehow.

**  
**

“We don’t know yet,” sighed David, “We’ve already sent İlkay and Shinji over to collect evidence.”

**  
**

“Where is Olivier?” asked Marco, just noticing Olivier’s absence. To his surprise, Erik turned even paler. In fact, Erik looked like he was going to be sick at any moment. Marco was getting seriously concerned. He wasn’t the only one who had noticed Erik’s discomfort. David’s sharp eyes fixed on Erik and realisation dawned on his face. Just as Marco was about to ask what the heck was happening, Mesut’s answered interrupted his thoughts.

**  
**

“Oli’s on his way there to the crime scene. He wanted to help İlkay and Shinji,” Mesut hesitated, “Do you think I should go with him? I’m still a little concerned about his left arm.”

**  
**

“No,” said David abruptly. He took a deep breath and said, “Joe will go instead. You’ll stay here to work on the autopsy.” Ignoring the confused and slightly hurt look on Mesut’s face, David turned to Marco, “you and I will stay here as well. I also want to hear the thing you wanted to tell Kehli earlier, in private. Everything is important now.”

**  
**

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**  
**

“Is there something going on that I don’t know about?” demanded Marco the moment he was alone with David.

**  
**

David gave him a long hard look. Marco met his gaze with determination and David finally sighed, “I have recently figured something out yes. But I haven’t confirmed it explicitly so I prefer not to talk about it on the off chance that I might be wrong. In any case, there are certain things that are best left as a mystery Marco. Sometimes the truth is harder to take than lies.”

**  
**

“But I am a police officer. We strive to uncover the truth and bring justice,” cried Marco, “I can’t let people be fooled by lies and deception, no matter how fine the reason behind those lies are.”

**  
**

“Your world is always black and white. But the reality is not,” said David sadly, “Haven’t your experience with the cases taught you that? We are not omnipotent. Even though we may know the truth, we cannot do anything about it because we’re bound by our responsibilities. That’s why we choose to let things take their own course, even though it’s not strictly following the rules sometimes.”

**  
**

“You’re sounding more and more like Olivier,” said Marco hotly, “So you’re saying that as long as we can get our way, it doesn’t matter how we do it?”

**  
**

“No,” said David quietly, “I’m asking you to not jump into conclusions and give people another chance. When it comes to making difficult choices, listen to your heart Marco. That’s what I’m doing right now.”

**  
**

When Marco still looked stubbornly unconvinced, David sighed again, “You will understand what I mean one day. Let’s talk about the real problem here. You came looking for Kehli yesterday because you had important information to share. What is it? Is it about Löw’s case?”

**  
**

The somewhat childish thought of trading his secret with David’s briefly entered Marco’s mind. But he pushed it aside. David was right. Every piece of information was important now. So he went ahead to tell David everything he had learnt from his newly found love of cryptography and semiotics.

**  
**

“Blimey,” said David, “Löw’s death was indeed a murder and the one who had murdered and tortured him was a blond. Who could that be though?”

**  
**

“We have too many blond officers,” said Marco impatiently, “It really doesn’t narrow it down too much.”

**  
**

“Well, that’s the problem of Germany, isn’t it? If this were Spain, it would be a piece of cake,” said David with a faint smile. “Still, it’s very useful information. We need to let the team know. I have a feeling we are finally going to find out who the rat is within Dortmund police.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here you go. I think you know mostly who those people are. Someone has already guessed right about the Kid and everybody knows who Satan is. That leaves the Hitman, the Angel, the Source, the Mastermind, and the last one that appeared :)
> 
> As for David's part, he's really trying to prepare Marco mentally for what is to come because our dearest David has already guessed what is going on.
> 
> And I couldn't resist the Zlatan part lol. It's just fun to write characters like this.


	29. Pray for Paris!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not part of the fic but much more important.

I’m sorry everyone for not updating the fic today like I would normally do. But given the current situation in Paris, I feel that it’s necessary to pause the update to express my condolences to all the victims in the horrific events that took place in Paris last night. Our thoughts are with them and their families. May they all Rest in Peace.

 

I was watching the France vs Germany game because so many of our beloved boys were playing, Olivier, Mats, İlkay, Laurent, Antoine (whose sister narrowly escaped the Bataclan concert hall during the attack), Thomas, Jogi, etc. When I heard the explosion during the match, I couldn’t believe it at first. I could tell that the boys were deeply shocked and shaken too, which was later confirmed by Jogi and Oliver Bierhoff. But they stood their ground and continued with the game, which I think is an extremely brave choice (and in my opinion, the right one). Pausing the game to run for safety would be the easier choice for the boys but it could cause panic amongst the audiences, who might be at greater risks outside the stadium. Nobody could blame the boys for leaving but they stayed, remained calm and played the game for the fans. For that, I am proud of them! I read somewhere (forgive me for the lack of references, I’ve ready so much since the event that I’ve lost track of things) that the attackers had planned to target the stadium but the heightened security (due to the presence of President Hollande) thwarted their plans. I have to say that I’m deeply thankful for the sake of our boys and it almost scares me to think just how lucky they were. I couldn’t even imagine how much worse the situation would be if the explosion did take place inside the stadium. 

 

Later I saw Antoine’s twitter and it almost broke my heart. He didn’t know the whereabouts of his sister when the game was over and all he could do was to pray and hope for the best. It wasn’t until three hours later that he confirmed that his sister was safe. What an agonising three-hour it must be for him and his family! Suddenly everything felt so real and personal. Then I saw the tweet that more attacks are being planned targeting Rome, London, Washington, etc. It really could happen to any one of us and our beloved ones, which makes the whole thing even more terrifying. But when I saw the audiences exiting the stadium singing the national anthem, my eyes were filled with tears. I’m not French but I feel so proud of them. They might be hurt or killed, but a national’s spirit will not be destroyed. It is the spirit we all need and possess to fight against the terror and evil outside. That’s what gives me hope.

 

As for the next update of the fic, I do have the chapter wirtten though I haven’t got time to proofread it because I’ve spent so much time following updates of the attack. I will update mid next week and we should be back on schedule again (though I may miss the update next weekend as I will be travelling then). For now, let’s pay our silent tribute to all who have suffered on the dark Friday night and pray things of such nature will never happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive any typos & grammar errors as I was quite emotional when I wrote this and didn't pay too much attention to details.


	30. Case 4 - Darkness Before Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the team was trying to work out the case, Marco had sensed something going on between some of his colleagues. Before he could dwell on the thought, a much bigger problem presented itself in front of Marco and the team.

When the group reconvened later that morning, they had the preliminary results ready.

 

“Van Gaal died from cyanide poisoning,” said Mesut, “We’ve found the bottle used to store those suicide pills.”

 

“So Van Gaal took those pills himself?” asked Marco skeptically.

 

“It would seem so,” said İlkay, “We didn’t find any sign of physical abuse on his body.”

 

“Does his house have any monitoring system?” asked David.

 

“He had a pretty advanced security system installed in his house,” said Joe. “I’ve downloaded all the security footage. Here,” he clicked open the file and it started playing on the big screen. “It shows two masked men outside Van Gaal’s house at around 2:00 am. Unfortunately their faces are completely unrecognisable due to the face masks. One of them, the shorter one, broke through the security system and got them into the house.”

 

“Do we have any voice recording of those two men?” asked Erik. Marco noticed that the dark circles under his eyes were still visible but Erik’s face had regained some colours.

 

Joe shook his head, “The monitoring system isn’t sensitive enough to pick up the whispered conversation between the two. They had also disabled the monitoring after they had entered the house so there is no record after 2:00 am.”

 

Marco watched the security footage on the screen and had an uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach. His eyes focused on the taller one of the two. He couldn’t really tell who that person was but the way he walked and held himself was vaguely familiar to him. Wracking his brain for who that person might be, Marco had to give up after a couple minutes. When he looked away though, he saw David’s piercing eyes fixed on him. David had clearly been watching his reaction the whole time. This idea unnerved him more than anything that had happened so far, for reasons he could not tell.

 

“Do we have any witnesses?” asked Erik and Olivier shook his head, “Not yet. It happened in the dead of night. Van Gaal’s house is in a really posh neighbourhood. Nobody was out that late on a weekday.”

 

“Have you asked all the neighbours?” asked David sharply, his eyes fixed on Olivier, “Someone might have heard something when the two suspects left by the window.”

 

“I am sure,” said Olivier as he met David’s gaze without backing out, “No one has heard anything. All of their houses have excellent sound-proof system so they haven’t heard any disturbance at night.”

 

Erik looked between David and Olivier and finally broke the silence, “We should go straight to the forensics. Do we have any evidence other than fingerprints and DNA?”

 

“Yes,” said İlkay, “we have collected the footprints of two people in Van Gaal’s bedroom. We have already ruled out the possibility that those belong to Mr or Mrs Van Gaal. They must belong to the two suspects.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Despite the fact that they had more evidence to work with, Marco couldn’t shake off the ill feeling that something wasn’t right about this case. He missed Kehli’s quiet yet firm leadership now more than ever. With Kehli suspended, David had assumed the position of the team lead but Marco knew he was withholding something. He could also tell that Olivier was somehow involved because those silent conversations between David and Olivier were just too obvious to ignore. These, combined with the secret identity of the leak within the Dortmund police, made the whole case even more perplexing. Marco contemplated his options. He could ask David again but he doubted that David would relent this time. Joe, İlkay and Shinji all seemed blissfully oblivious to what was going on. Erik was still looking rather down and Marco doubted that he knew anything anyway. A conversation with Olivier about delicate matters never seemed very appealing to Marco either. He eventually settled on Mesut.

 

“Hi Mesut,” said Marco in a cheerful tone that did not convey his true feeling at the moment at all, “can I have a private word?”

 

Once they were by themselves, Marco asked, “Do you know what’s going on between David and Olivier? I have a feeling that they understand things about the case that we don’t know.”

 

Mesut hesitated, “I know what you’re talking about and I understand how you feel. But I’m afraid I don’t know anything more than you do.”

 

“But surely you do,” cried Marco exasperatedly, all pretence forgotten, “Joe might be too oblivious to notice things like this but you’re not. You must have asked Olivier and I know he can’t refuse you anything.”

 

Mesut half sighed half smiled. When he looked at Marco though, his kind dreamy eyes was unusually sharp and shrewd, “I love Olivier more than anything else in this world, which means I trust him wholeheartedly and don’t press him on things he doesn’t want to tell. It’s the same with Joe and David. Joe may not look it but he’s actually very perceptive and sharp. Don’t think he hasn’t noticed anything. Of course he has. He just chooses to believe in David, like I do with Olivier.”

 

“So it doesn’t bother you that Olivier is keeping things from you?” asked Marco feeling confused.

 

Mesut smiled, “When you love someone, you learn to trust them and love everything of that person, both the part that is easy to like and the part that is not. I love Olivier and I know he loves me back. So I trust that he’s doing it for a good reason and I accept the fact. Simple as that. No questions asked.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Marco got home that night, he found Lewy already in his flat. “I thought you’d still be in Frankfurt.”

 

“My business trip has ended earlier than I thought,” said Lewy evenly.

 

Marco took a good look at Lewy and could tell that he was tired. His beautiful blue eyes were slightly bloodshot and the lines around his mouth was more pronounced. “Are you okay Lewy? You look exhausted? Is work giving you problem?”

 

Lewy paused for a second before he said, “Everything is fine. We’ve encountered some problems but help came at the right moment. I’m just really tired because I had to work all night last night. But,” his voice became cheerful again, “on the bright side, we can definitely spend the weekend together.”

 

“I’m not sure I can,” said Marco painfully, “We have another murder case. Louis Van Gaal has been killed. I probably have to work through the weekend.”

 

“That’s really too bad,” said Lewy. He hesitated, as if he was fighting an internal battle. Marco frowned, “What is it Lewy?”

 

“I’m just wondering,” asked Lewy tentatively, “how do you feel about Van Gaal’s death?”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Marco sharply.

 

“I mean,” said Lewy slowly, choosing his words very carefully, “Van Gaal was most likely the killer of Müller and Löw. So to some extent he was getting what he deserved. Maybe that’s why someone chose to kill him, to bring justice for Müller and Löw.”

 

“How do you even know that Van Gaal was the killer?” cried Marco, panicking right now. He searched his memories frantically to see if he had ever let anything slip when he was with Lewy. Lewy hurried to reassure him, “I’ve figured it out myself. It’s not that hard if you follow the news coverage of the case.” Marco relaxed visibly upon hearing this so Lewy didn’t lose the opportunity to ask the question again. “So, how do you feel about Van Gaal’s death?”

 

Marco squared his shoulders and said firmly, “Whoever killed Van Gaal might have a good reason but it does not justify their behaviour. Nobody has the right to take another person’s life illegally. That’s what we are for isn’t it? Van Gaal might be a killer but he at least deserves a chance to defend himself in front of an impartial judge. To be killed without a chance to clear his name is…”

 

“What if Van Gaal has confessed to the crime himself?” interrupted Lewy.

 

“Well, he might have done that because he was scared. There might be other mitigating factors. But even that’s not important. That kind of decisions can only be made by the judge and the jury when proper evidence is presented in front of them. For heaven’s sake, we no longer live in the time of Robin Hood.”

 

“So you’re against bypassing protocols then,” said Lewy thoughtfully.

 

“I think it’s acceptable to skip certain protocols when we’re collecting evidence. Only certain protocols and only if it’s the last resort, ” Marco added hastily. “But I’m definitely against taking laws into your own hand and decide someone else’s fate without a proper trial at a real court.”

 

Lewy remained silent for a while. When he looked up again, it seemed that he had made the decision. “It’s good to know your opinion on this matter,” said Lewy meaningfully, “Now, let’s talk about this weekend. Maybe we can still do something together?”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marco bumped into Erik the next morning on his way to the CID. To his surprise and great relief, Erik was looking much better and almost his old usual self again. Marco could detect the subtle change in Erik though. He seemed more determined and, Marco wasn’t sure how to describe it, lighter. It was as if Erik had finally got rid of some sort of burden or shackle that he had been carrying before. “Someone’s looking happy,” teased Marco, “Did something good happen last night?”

 

“Yes,” beamed Erik, “I’ve had a good long conversation with someone and it has solved most of our problems.”

 

“So everything’s okay between you and Neven then?” Marco was genuinely happy for him because he had always wanted it to work between Erik and Neven. They seemed perfect for each other and so in love.

 

“Well, yes. Neven has explained certain things to me and I have learned things about him that I never know before,” said Erik meaningfully. “Now that we have talked everything over, we’re good. I understand his choices and I fully support his decision.”

 

Marco wandered if the conversation was about Mats. He didn’t know what else could be so secretive that Neven would withhold it from Erik before. But he thought Erik had known about Mats. Maybe just the details, thought Marco. He was suddenly reminded of the fact that he had never told Lewy about Mario. Nor had Lewy ever said anything about his previous relationships. Marco made a mental note to bring up this subject at the next available opportunity.

 

Marco didn’t have much time to dwell on thoughts about Mario and Lewy, for he was busy working on the forensics analysis. David had sent Olivier and Joe out to interview possible witnesses again, a decision that had deeply puzzled Marco. Olivier had always worked with Mesut and despite being a detective, interviewing was never Joe’s forte. When they returned around lunch time, they hadn’t brought any good news.

 

“We couldn’t seem to find any witnesses,” said Olivier though he didn’t seem too frustrated by the lack of information. “None of the neighbours have heard anything. There was no bus or train in that area. We have checked with the taxi companies and nobody seems to be out in that area that night either.”

 

Behind Olivier, Marco saw Joe giving David a meaningful look. David nodded and said, “Very well then. We’ll contact Woj to report this murder on the newspaper and urge anyone with information to come forth. Is Alexis going to be available for the next couple days? We need his help on analysing the video recording. If we could amplify the sound of the two suspects, it would be extremely helpful.”

 

A swift look of unease flickered through Olivier’s face but he regained his composure soon enough. Under David’s knowing look, Olivier replied calmly, “I will check with Alexis and let you know.”

 

Later that afternoon, Woj stopped by at David’s request. They had locked themselves up in Kehli’s office for a good hour discussing god knows what. Marco was getting anxious and he found it extremely hard to concentrate on his work. He had the feeling that he might be the only one who didn’t know what the heck was going on. Well, him, İlkay and Shinji. It was small comfort though because Shinji was generally clueless outside his laboratory and İlkay wasn’t interested in anything other than his precious dead bodies and high-school-girl-like gossips.

 

“Good afternoon gentlemen,” José Mourinho’s cold voice jolted Marco out of his thoughts. He was accompanied by a short dark-skinned young man with wild curly hair. Marco tensed up instinctively at the gleefully look in José’s face. “Who’s in charge here now that Mr Kehl has been suspended?”

 

“David is talking to Mr Szczęsny about…” Joe’s reply was interrupted when José started walking towards Kehli’s office. Both Joe and Olivier jumped. Being the taller of the two, Joe’s long legs carried him to block the door to Kehli’s office first.

 

“What are you doing?” asked José, his eyes narrowing.

 

“David is busy,” muttered Joe but he didn’t budge under José’s threatening look.

 

“Too busy to talk to the mayor about the murder of a Dortmund resident?” José’s voice was quiet but dangerous, “That makes me wonder if he actually wants to solve the case or not.”

 

From the corner of his eyes, Marco saw Olivier pick up the coffeemaker and raised it high in the air. İlkay saw it too and he jumped to stop Olivier from this act of insanity. Unfortunately, Olivier was much quicker. The loud clanking noise signalled the end of the old coffeemaker’s short life. Everyone turned to look Olivier but İlkay was positively livid, “Bloody hell Olivier! What are we going to do without a coffeemaker? Who’s going to make the morning coffee for Shinji and me?”

 

“Sorry about that,” said Olivier airily, “it must have slipped from my hand. Don’t worry İlkay, I’ll buy you a new one.”

 

“You better make sure you have the new coffeemaker ready by tomorrow morning,” David’s quiet voice came out of Kehli’s office. The noise outside had obviously alerted him of an unpleasant guest’s arrival, “We’ll be working overtime tomorrow and Sunday if necessary.” He walked out of Kehli’s office with Woj following him closely. “Good afternoon Mr Mayor. It’s so nice to see you here again. To what do we owe the pleasure?” He gestured towards the young man next to José, “And this is?”

 

“This is Willian Borges da Silva,” said José smugly, “he has come to me with potential information on the murder of Louis Van Gaal.”

 

“Why has he come to you?” asked Olivier bluntly, “He should report such information to us.”

 

“Attitude Mr Giroud,” hissed José, “I’m not sure why Mr Borges da Silva has chosen to come to me but maybe it is because of the incidents that had happened in this very department several weeks ago.”

 

David raised a hand to silence Olivier’s angry retort, “Thank you Mr Mourinho for your help. Now Mr Borges da Silva, would you please tell us what you have to say about Mr Van Gaal’s death?”

 

The young man, Willian, shifted nervously with everyone’s eyes on him. “Sir, please call me Willian. I’m not sure if what I’ve seen is related to Mr Van Gaal’s death but I have seen something that night.”

 

“Anything could be critical to the case,” said David patiently, “Please do not hesitate to tell us anything that you’ve seen.”

 

“Okay,” muttered Willian and he took a deep breath, “I was in Mr Van Gaal’s neighbourhood that night.”

 

“What were you doing there?” asked Marco.

 

“I’m a street sweeper sir,” said Willian, clutching his hat nervously, “I’m usually out early in the morning so I can finish my cleaning before sunrise.”

 

“So you saw something while cleaning the street?” asked Olivier skeptically.

 

“No sir, I wasn’t really cleaning. I was on my way to the office but I saw two masked men jumping out of a house. I was scared and I didn’t know what to do. Then I heard gunshots. I panicked and hid behind a bush. The fight lasted forever. Then I heard the siren of a police car. I thought someone must have alerted the police so I waited. Later, I saw the police car driving away and everything was quiet. I didn’t dare to move though. Another car left 30 minutes later and when I finally went to the scene, everyone was gone. The ground was a bit wet but other than that, there was no trace left.”

 

“So you’re saying the police went to arrest the suspects?” asked İlkay in bewilderment, “That’s not possible. We haven’t sent anyone…”

 

“I’m not sure arrest is quite the right word Mr Gündoğan,” sneered José, “Come come Willian, don’t be shy. Tell the gentlemen what you have seen in the police car.”

 

Marco’s heart was beating so fast that he was sure it would jump out of his chest. Around him, everyone had tensed up, waiting for the fatal blow. Erik and Olivier, in particular, were taut and pale. There was no trace of the usual flirty smile on Olivier face. Erik looked like he had seen a ghost and was ready to pass out any second now.

 

“Well,” said Willian apologetically. Marco couldn’t repress the bizarre thought about how strange it was that their executor would feel sorry for their upcoming death. “I saw one of the masked men in the police car when they drove past me.”

 

There was dead silence in the CID. Marco wished that the ground would open up and swallow him so he could disappear on the spot. He felt like he couldn’t breath. One look at Willian told Marco that he wasn’t lying. The poor bloke felt bad about what he had seen but he had to tell them. David’s lips were pressed together so thinly that Marco could hardly see it.

 

“Did you see anyone else’s face in the police car?” asked Shinji when no one else had recovered enough to break the silence.

 

Willian shook his head, “No, only the masked man. I didn’t really see anyone’s face to be honest. But I’m sure I saw a masked face in the back seat.” Marco could feel both Olivier and Erik relax visibly next to him.

 

“Thank you very much Willian,” said David, his voice clipped, “That’s very useful information. We will take that into consideration when we work on…”

 

“Mr Silva,” interrupted José in a honeyed tone, “you seemed to be under the false impression that your team will continue working on this case. Let me assure you that no such thing will happen. Everybody here will be suspended until further notice.”

 

“But…”

 

“Gentlemen,” said José, barely containing the glee in his voice, “you’re all potential accomplices of the suspects in this case. This is the second time something like this has happened and the public will not tolerate another flounder like this. You’re a disgrace to the government. None of you can be exonerated until all the investigations are done. Even after that, whether you are fit to return to your position is highly questionable. I am sorry for the decision,” his voice didn’t sound sorry at all and Marco had to stop himself from attacking José on the spot, “but that’s what I have to do as a mayor. You are hereby suspended. Please have all of your case files organised so your successors can continue working on the cases. Good day to you all.” With that, José beckoned Willian forward and left the CID.

 

“Suspended,” said İlkay in a hollow voice, “and potentially sacked. What are we going to do?”

 

“Can’t Jürgen help?” said Marco exasperatedly.

 

“I’m afraid not Marco.” Everyone turned around and saw Jürgen emerging out of his office, looking careworn. His voice had lost its usual exuberance, “I have also been suspended. Of course, I have the opportunity to defend myself and you lot in front of upper management but my hopes are not high.”

 

“So what do we do now?” asked Olivier in a low voice, all the usual swagger gone.

 

Jürgen looked at him meaningfully and said, “Lay low and don’t cause any more trouble. I have a feeling this is not permanent. We will be back soon. I’m sure of it.”

 

Once Jürgen was gone, David lowered his voice, “We need to get together after work. I’m not sure if our places would be save. And we know Neven’s clinic is probably being watched.”

 

“We could meet in Mats’ place,” said Marco eagerly, “I have one of his spare keys. He’s totally trustworthy and very helpful too.”

 

“What about his girlfriend?” asked İlkay.

 

“Cathy is in the US right now and won’t be back for another month.”

 

“Good,” said David seriously, “Let’s meet there tonight. Get there before 8 Marco so you could check the place and let people in later. Everyone else, don’t go there until 8:30 and don’t all show up at once. Most importantly, make sure you’re not being followed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the update that should have been updated last weekend. I feel a bit bad to keep Marco in the dark when he seems like the only one still clueless about what's going on :) But all his friends were trying to give him some hints.


	31. Case 5 - The Fight Is Not Over; It Has Just Begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team was not going to give up. They had re-grouped to work on the case with the help of others. Marco had learned a lesson in friendship :)

After leaving Lewy a hastily scribbled notes, Marco had arrived at Mats’ flat at 8 o’clock that night, ready to receive everyone. Mats hadn’t returned home that night yet, still working on a case. So Marco took it upon himself to check that there was no spy around the flat. 

 

The flat was a posh one, artfully decorated with beautiful oil paintings, expensive mahogany furnitures and delicate ornaments made of china, jade, and ivory. It spelled class with a feminine touch to it, which was a big contrast to the flat Mats used to share with Neven, whose taste was postmodern at best. 

 

People had started to arrive since 8:30 as David had instructed. The first to show up was Mesut and Olivier, closely followed by Joe.

 

“David will be here in a sec,” said Joe at Marco’s questioning look, “He was talking to someone on the phone. Could be important.”

 

“Is Alexis going to join us?” asked Marco.

 

“Not today,” said Olivier calmly, “I’ve phoned him but he said he couldn’t make it. The stupid fool attempted outdoor rock climbing last night and broke his leg. He’s now lying in bed, cursing everyone and hating this world.”

 

“Well,” said Joe casually, “at least he could still use his laptop.”

 

“That’s true,” mused Olivier, “I suppose that’s the only thing stopping him from killing himself. He did sound pretty loony on the phone though.”

 

The next to show up were İlkay and Shinji. Shinji was his usual calm and slightly confused self while İlkay had brought, Marco did a double take, his beloved scalpel with him. Marco wanted to bang his head against the wall. The situation was bad enough without the added worry of İlkay’s mental health.

 

Once Erik and Kehli had arrived (everyone went to hug Kehli, who looked both pleased and a little embarrassed), they settled in Mats’ flat to wait for David. Marco noticed that Erik was paying special attention to the decoration and style of the place. 

 

At 8:55, the doorbell rang and Marco hastened to answer the door. When he opened the door however, he was greeted with not only David, but also Woj and someone none other than Tomáš Rosický.

 

Marco gaped at Tomáš, who was wearing a long trench jacket with fitting jeans and his long hair was parted neatly in the middle. There was a casual unassuming air about him that made Marco like him even more. When Tomáš saw the awestruck look on Marco’s face, he smiled kindly at Marco, which made him look even younger. For once in his life, Marco was completely lost for words. 

 

“For heaven’s sake Marco,” laughed Woj, “close your mouth or you’ll be drooling all over us.”

 

Marco did as Woj said. He was too surprised by his good luck to feel embarrassed. Before he could say a word to Tomáš though, David ushered them into the room.

 

“Mr Rosický,” gasped Marco when he had finally found his voice again, “it is such an honour.”

 

“The pleasure is mine Mr Reus,” smiled Tomáš, “Woj has told me all about you and I’m delighted to meet you in person at last. Please, call me Tomáš.”

 

After everyone was seated, Marco was still staring at Tomáš, which earned him a sharp elbow to the rib from İlkay. 

 

“What?” asked Marco annoyedly. 

 

“Don’t go too crazy otherwise the Pole will kill you and Tomáš for your change of heart,” sneered İlkay loudly. 

 

Everybody else laughed and Marco finally blushed, “Piss off!”

 

When David raised his hand though, everybody fell silent and turned their fullest attention to him. David cleared his throat and said, “Evening lads, I think we all know why we’re here.” “Unfortunately yes,” muttered İlkay but David ignored him. “Even though we’re suspended, it doesn’t mean we’re not going to perform our duty and work on the case. Mr Rosický has brought us something interesting about this case.”

 

Tomáš rose up and addressed his eager audience, “Good evening everyone, please forgive my manners but David has assured me that no self-introduction is necessary on my part. Let’s get straight to the point. I have received this in the mail this afternoon.” He took out a flash drive and a piece of paper from his pocket. “After reading the notes, I realised immediately that this is critical information. So I listened to the voice recording in the flash drive and went to see Woj because I know he is working with you on this case. He brought me to David so here I am.” He held out the notes to Mesut who was sitting next to him. Mesut hesitated, not sure if he should take it but David reassured him, “I have preserved the original note. This is just a copy.” Mesut nodded, took the typed copy and started reading it out loud.

 

“Dear Mr Rosický,

 

I am an avid reader of yours and I am particularly impressed by your dedication to free this world of unworthy criminals who profit from other people’s miseries. I therefore trust you with a valuable piece of information that I have obtained with great difficulty. With your intelligence and knowledge in the field, I hope with all my heart that this piece of information in your hand may lead to the downfall of another wealthy miscreant. 

 

 

Respectfully Yours,

Anonymous”

 

Once Mesut had finished reading the notes, they all looked at Kehli, who shrugged, “Why not?” David nodded and Joe started playing the voice recording file on his laptop. 

 

_“Hello professor, I figure that we should have a little conversation together, don’t you think? My friend felt really bad about obtaining your wife’s medical record without her approval and he would like to apologise.”_

 

The voice was strange and funny. Marco realised that someone must have manipulated the file to protect the speaker. Everyone listened on to the conversation between Van Gaal and his two interrogators the night he died. 

 

Once the recording was over, Marco found that nobody seemed very surprised. David had the look that his suspicion had finally been confirmed, “So Van Gaal was indeed involved in the money laundering and that was why he had killed Müller and Löw. The question is, why was his boss that he was laundering money for?”

 

“He was a foreigner who was murdered a couple months ago,” said Mesut, “I’m sure we can find out the names of everyone who had been murdered recently. He’s likely a businessman with at least some of his business in Germany.”

 

“He could be a drug dealer and he doesn’t have to live in Germany,” argued Marco reasonably, “With the technology and transportation methods these days, Van Gaal’s boss could easily communicate with him and get the money from him with several trips abroad.”

 

“That is possible,” nodded Tomáš and Marco beamed with pride and pleasure, “Someone should check Van Gaal’s phone and laptop though. His boss must have contacted him one way or the other.”

 

“But we don’t have access to either,” whined İlkay, “And I really don’t recommend sneaking into the CID to nick them, given the current situation we’re in.”

 

Olivier opened his mouth but David cut across him, “No, İlkay’s right. We’re NOT sneaking into the CID. We have to find other ways to obtain those files.” 

 

“Actually,” a sudden idea had struck Marco, “there could be another way. I mean José can’t find that many competent officers to fill our spots so he has to enlist the help of others, right? So I think he might ask Benedikt’s team to be involved again. Maybe Benedikt could pass us the information like he did last time.”

 

“That’s an idea,” said David thoughtfully, “Of course, officer Benedikt Höwedes would have to agree to this.”

 

Marco stood up, “I’ll phone Mats and ask him to come home. If he asks Benedikt, I’m sure he won’t say no.”

 

Mats seemed to be in a towering temper when he picked up the call, “Mats speaking. No,” he yelled at someone on the other end of the line, “I’ve told you, I’m not working for that skunk not matter how much he pays me! None of my team will work for him either so he can go fuck himself, with all due respect.” 

 

Marco was quite speechless. To hear Mats swear was like seeing pigs fly. He wish he had recorded this so he could show it to Neven and Mario. Mats’ next sentence however, made Marco forget everything else, “Sorry Marco, the hell is on fire now. José’s pressing charge on Jürgen and Roman for negligence and I’ve refused to be the prosecutor.”

 

“He can’t do that!” cried Marco in total surprise, “Jürgen and Roman have done nothing!”

 

Mats grimaced, “I’m afraid that’s the problem. They are supposed to be your supervisors, aren't they? When something of this nature happens, it’s natural to investigate into the department, them included. 

 

“But that’s not fair! If anything, it’s our fault!”

 

“Come on Marco,” said Mats impatiently, “Surely you know that José has set all of you up. Everything is part of his big plan, which is to get rid of all of you since the very beginning. There’s just too many coincidences not to be a frame-up. The only way you can do to change the game is to find proof of that!”

 

“Actually we can,” said Marco urgently, “But we need your help on that!” And he proceeded to tell Mats everything they knew about Van Gaal’s death. Once he was done, Mats was silent for a while.

 

“This could get Benedikt into trouble, couldn't it?” said Mats slowly, “now that José is watching the CID closely.”

 

“Well,” said Marco a little sheepishly for he hadn’t considered this possibility when he volunteered Benedikt for the job, “he’s our only hope. Without Van Gaal’s contact, we’re stuck. Please Mats.”

 

“I can’t ask Benedikt to risk his job,” sighed Mats, “even if I know he’ll probably say yes.”

 

“Mats do you…?” Marco was hesitant to probe too much into Mats’ affairs, for Mats was extremely private, especially about his relationship with Benedikt.

 

“It’s not like that,” said Mats shortly, “We’re friends that’s all. But I’m not getting my friend into this kind of trouble either.”

 

Marco remained silent. He almost knew for sure now that if given his own way, Mats would have returned Benedikt’s feelings. But that would make his decision to split up with Neven seem almost hypocritical. So Mats remained silent and stayed with Cathy. But then again, who was him to judge Mats’ choices? But Marco understood why Mats was unwilling to do this because he felt guilty about his cold shoulders towards Benedikt already. He wouldn’t do anything that might hurt Benedikt further.

 

“It’s okay Mats,” said Marco gently, “I’ll talk to Benedikt and see if there’s anything he could do. I could also try Julian. He’s always nice to me and a very decent bloke.”

 

After he hung up, Marco relayed Mats’ message to everyone. They all understood the reasoning behind it though nobody could hide their disappointment. Kehli was the first to recover.

 

“We have to think about other leads. If we can get some sort of evidence, no matter how circumstantial, it would help justify our actions and Benedikt’s help.” 

 

“There’s one who could help,” said Erik slowly and everyone turned to look at him with eager anticipation. “Well, two actually. Cristiano Ronaldo is supposed to be looking into the money laundering case, isn’t he? Lewy could also be extremely helpful. Can we bring them in?”

 

“We have Lewy’s security clearance don’t we?” said Olivier enthusiastically, “As for Cristiano, well, he’s already kind of involved isn’t it? It wouldn’t hurt to get his help either.”

 

“This is against protocols,” said Joe seriously, sounding strangely like David, “We’re not even working on this case. We don’t have the authority to brief anyone on this case. Besides, how do we know if Cristiano can be trusted. We need to get his security clearance first.

 

Everyone turned to look at Kehli and David, waiting for them to make a decision. Kehli looked torn between his inner battle and remained silent. Marco knew Kehli was waiting for everyone’s especially David’s opinion since he couldn’t decide himself.

 

“Galloping gargoyles!” cursed David, which made everyone jump, “Sod the protocols. We don’t have time and we need all the help we can get. I’ll phone Cristiano.”

 

Marco rose up with glee. He had always wanted to bring Lewy closer to his life and this was the perfect opportunity. He knew that Lewy’s cool analytical head could just help them solve the mystery. “I’ll phone Lewy right now!”

 

Half an hour later, both Lewy and Cristiano were seated comfortably in Mats’ living room. After a quick introduction, they delved right into the case.

 

“I have made some headways with the money laundering case since our last conversation,” said Cristiano, his demeanour completely professional even though his appearance still reminded Marco of that of an underwear model, “Money laundering usually starts with money deposit by various accounts. The money is then moved around to foreign accounts, which become legal that point. The legalised money would then be used to invest in new companies, real estate, etc. You get the idea. It’s usually easiest to catch them at the first placement stage. So that’s where I started. I have gone through all the accounts I could find in Dortmund that had made significant amount of deposit and then transferred that money abroad in the past.”

 

“How did you get that kind of information?” asked David, aghast. 

 

“I have my sources,” said Cristiano cryptically, “I’ve never asked for information of a still open account, if that’s any comfort.”

 

“No, it’s not,” muttered David and Cristiano laughed, “Well, I’m rather hoping you won’t mention this when you write up your case report. But anyway, I did find that a lot of those foreign transactions quite suspicious.”

 

“Can you find out which country the money goes to?” asked Olivier eagerly.

 

“Knowing that alone won’t help you much,” said Lewy calmly before Cristiano could reply, “the second layering stage is awfully complicated. The money never makes its way directly to the offender’s account. It will go through several routes and countries before it finally lands in its intended destination. Financial information is protected to start with and even if you have some connections in one country, you cannot cover all the countries, which is why money laundering cases are so hard to crack once it’s past the placement stage.”

 

“Exactly!” said Cristiano as he slammed his fist on the table in excitement to emphasise his point, “Mr Lewandowski is right. Some of the money went to Spain, some to England, many to various Eastern European countries, some to South America. I have connections in Spain and Portugal, but not other countries.”

 

“I’ll take care of England and Poland,” said Lewy and Marco beamed at him.

 

Tomáš smiled casually and said, “Czech Republic is my home and will be my responsibility. Just give me the information and I’ll get back to you in less than a week.”

 

“I’m going to ask Kun,” said David thoughtfully, “He’s our expert in financial crimes and he’s from Argentina originally. He might be able to get some information from there.”

 

“What about Vinnie?” asked Mesut, “I know he’s not with the London police and his specialty is not financial crimes. But he’s worked with the UN in so many different countries on so many different missions. I dunno, I just feel like he might know something.”

 

David nodded, “I know what you mean. Vinnie always makes you feel that he could do anything. I’ll definitely ask him.”

 

“I’ll ask around to see if any of my friends or relatives in Japan may have be helpful,” said Shinji, “I kind of doubt it but I’ll try.”

 

“I can take France,” said Olivier confidently but Joe gave him a skeptical look, “You left France ages ago and you know nothing about finance. How are you supposed to find connections in that field in France?”

 

“Don’t you worry, Harty,” smiled Olivier, “One’s got friends and I have plenty back home. Besides, if necessary, I’ll go back to France myself and everything will be sorted out. I haven’t found a single person who can resist my charm yet.”

 

“God help us!” muttered David and everybody laughed despite the tense atmosphere brought by the cases. After all, they were a team full of talent and Marco felt certain that they could conquer anything when they worked together.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Once they were back in Lewy’s flat, Marco threw himself into Lewy’s arms and kissed him fervently like there was no tomorrow. The day had been so trying and tense that Marco felt he was ready to break. Lewy’s calming presence and his willingness to help were exactly what Marco needed. Lewy seemed a bit taken aback by Marco’s open enthusiasm but accepted it with great pleasure. They eventually had to separate when the need for oxygen became too great to ignore.

 

“I’m so glad you came today,” whispered Marco ecstatically, “This means the world to me.”

 

Lewy locked his eyes with Marco’s and Marco was again amazed by the beauty of those piercingly blue eyes, “I would do anything for you Marco and I want to be part of your world. But I want to find what José has been up to, not just for your sake. You’re not the only one who cares about justice. I want to do my part too.”

 

Marco kissed Lewy again. He knew his lips would soon be swollen from all the passionate kissing and the other lads would probably take the mickey out of him tomorrow. But right now, Marco couldn’t care less. He had never felt so close to Lewy, which was something he had been looking for all this time.

 

“Well, I guess that means we’ll spend the weekend together,” smiled Lewy, “But not in the romantic places I have envisioned.”

 

“Any place with you is romantic,” said Marco, who almost blushed from his own corniness.

 

Marco woke up the next morning with his body aching all over. He smiled though when he turned around to see Lewy’s peaceful sleeping face. It was only 7 in the morning and since they had been suspended, Marco didn’t need to rush to work anymore. He contemplated how to use his time before Lewy woke up. A delicious breakfast sounded like an appealing option, except that Marco could not cook a meal without burning down the house. Maybe he should go out to buy some breakfast. He took another look at Lewy, who was still sound asleep, and left the flat stealthily.

 

Marco was soon glad for his decision, because his mobile started ringing loudly with the ringtone reserved for Mario. Marco quickly picked it up and was immediately overwhelmed by Mario’s shrieking.

 

“You haven’t told me that you have been suspended!” the high-pitched voice from the other end of the line indicated the deep displeasure of the speaker, “I had to wait for Mats to phone me to know it! How can you not tell me something so important Marco?! I could have come to see you, to offer moral support! And speaking of phoning, I haven’t talked to you in ages.”

 

Marco gulped. Now he did feel guilty about not phoning Mario and telling him everything. “I’m so sorry Mario! I’ve so busy recently. I was about to phone you just the other day though. I was just, you know, distracted.”

 

This didn’t seem to appease Mario at all. On the contrary, it seemed to incense him even further, “Oh of course, it’s such a big trouble to pick up your bloody mobile and dial the number! Mats told me that he barely sees or hears from you nowadays and you’re in the same city for Christ’s sake! We’re your best mates and you’re acting like we don’t exist!”

 

“Mario please!” pleaded Marco feebly but he was cut across by Mario’s outburst, which didn’t seem to want to end, “And don’t even think about telling me it’s because you’re busy working on a case. That’s a pathetic excuse! You’re always working on a case and that has never stopped you phoning us before. You’re ignoring us because you’re too busy shagging your precious Lewy, who’s the only one you care about now!”

 

Marco flinched because he knew Mario was right in some way: Marco had been too absorbed in his world with Lewy that he was forgetting his other friends. “You’re right Mario. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve been a total arse to you, Mats, and Neven even though I didn’t mean to. I really am sorry.”

 

The sincerity of Marco’s voice had finally done the trick. Mario took a deep breath and said, “Fine. Apology accepted. You’ve been a complete wanker but what can we do? We’re best mates after all. But,” he raised his voice alarmingly, “you better apologise to Mats in person you know? I’m not going to be your messenger.”

 

“Of course I will,” said Marco hastily, “Is he really mad at me? What about Neven?”

 

“I don’t think Mats’ mad as I am” said Mario reluctantly, “As for Neven, well, he’s been too busy shagging his Erik so I think he hardly noticed. But despite his endless shagging, at least he’s not forgetting about us.”

 

“I’m sorry,” offered Marco quickly but Mario made an impatient noise, “Come on, save your apology for Mats. I know you Marco. You may be guarded and cautious at first. But once you’re with someone, you throw yourself into the relationship and throw caution to the wind.”

 

“No, I’m not!” retorted Marco angrily, who thought that statement was a big exaggeration.

 

Mario snorted, “Who was the one that learned French simply for his boyfriend and when the said boyfriend was about to leave Germany, decided to follow him and move to Ethiopia?”

 

“Pierre works for the Peace Corp, which is a noble cause mind you!” argued Marco angrily, “That was the only way to make our relationship work. Besides, I think it would be a good experience for me to work there for a while.”

 

Completely unfazed by Marco’s irritation, Mario continued, “And remember your mental cat-loving boyfriend? You once went all the way to Lake Van just to buy him a Van cat. You’re allergic to cats! By the time you went back with the bloody animal, you had already swollen up like a balloon and stayed that way for a week!”

 

“Henrikh is Armenian and Lake Van is an important part of his cultural background!” said Marco indignantly.

 

“Well, whatever you say. But you do lose your head once you’re, or you think you’re in love with someone. This time is no different. Thank god it doesn’t happen all the time. You’re falling head over heels for this Lewy so I expect that much from you. But at least you’re not hurting yourself this time so I suppose that’s an improvement. But Marco,” Mario’s tune had turned suddenly serious, “Do be careful. You’re sort of on your own with this one because Neven’s too madly in love to give a damn about the world right now. Mats, well, he’s got a brilliant mind that can see through the deception of an adversary within a second. But let’s face it, when it comes to feelings and relationships, he’s got the experience and emotional range of an oversized toddler. Try not to lose your head completely. I really wish I’m here so I can know this Lewy better but I can’t. So take care of yourself, okay?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry this chapter took me so long. But I've just returned to the States last weekend and I'm still jet-lagged...
> 
> This case will be about money laundering, which I know absolutely nothing about. I have a couple friends who worked in the finance field and they told me that most of the money laundering cases are discovered because of a lucky accident or because of some other crimes committed by the offender. So I'm afraid I have to invent wildly here to make this case work for the plot.
> 
> I feel kind of guilty for forgetting about Mario so I've decided to give him some screen time in today's chapter. This will hopefully also explain some of Marco's behaviour :)


	32. Case 5 - Help Can Come From Really Unlikely Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Erik did their part for the case. Cristiano and Lewy were running the show. But eventually, help came from a rather unexpected place

Lewy was extremely tied up for the next two days, constantly making international phone calls. Marco frequently found him in the study, talking in rapid Polish and looking very serious. Feeling that he should contribute to the case too, Marco wracked his brain to see if he had any foreign connections he could use. To his dismay, Marco realised that he had virtually no experience in the finance field and had to go back to what he did best, investigating a crime from the clues he had at hand.

 

After their initial meeting, David had made a copy of the notes and the audio recording for everyone and that was what Marco had been studying. He had a feeling that he knew who Van Gaal’s dead boss was and the answer was right within those files. Just when he was about to listen to the audio for the umpteenth time, his mobile rang and Marco picked it up.

 

“It’s me,” said Erik succinctly, “I’ve tried but nobody I know has the ability to release classified financial information of their clients to me so that’s that. I still want to do something though. Want to get together to go over the case?”

 

“Absolutely!” agreed Marco whole-heartedly. Two pairs of eyes were way better than one.

 

Not wanting to disturb Lewy, Marco went to Erik’s flat. It was a nice two-bedroom flat with the usual messiness of a young twenty-something lad. But Marco could tell that Erik hadn’t spent much time in there. 

 

“I share the flat with my best mate from university, Matthias,” said Erik as he hastily cleared some random clothes on the sofa so they could sit down. “He has already left Dortmund to meet his new girlfriend Christina’s family. So we won’t be disturbed here.”

 

“Brilliant,” said Marco, not really paying attention on Erik’s word because his mind was already on the case, “So, let’s listen to the audio recording again, shall we?”

 

After playing it a couple times, Marco was the first one to break the silence, “I think Mourinho is definitely involved. Van Gaal wasn’t willing to confirm that because he didn’t want to put his family in danger. But he had never denied that either. So that must mean that Mourinho is part of the gang.”

 

“I agree,” nodded Erik, as he scribbled down their thoughts on a piece of paper, “Mourinho isn’t the one who Van Gaal laundered the money for but they must be connected somehow. He must be that dead man’s collaborator. This Zlatan lad is also working with Mourinho, probably doing all of their dirty work. That must be why Van Gaal was so scared for his family’s safety.”

 

“Van Gaal had a friend with the Dortmund police, the blond murderer. From the way he had described it, Van Gaal seemed to think that his friend took things into his own hands. He suspected that his friend might be was working for Mourinho as well.”

 

“He must be,” said Erik confidently, “Otherwise, why would he torture Löw to get us into trouble?”

 

“If that’s the case,” gasped Marco, “it meant that Mourinho never wanted Van Gaal to live. He wanted him dead, and by the hand of whoever had killed him. Mourinho had planned it all out. That’s why he didn’t actually get Van Gaal out of Dortmund when things first started to get fishy. Van Gaal was just a pawn in his chess game.”

 

“Why is he doing this though?” said Erik thinking hard, “Mourinho knew that Van Gaal would do something to save his own skin if he couldn’t get help elsewhere. Do you think Mourinho had asked Van Gaal’s friend to egg Van Gaal on about Müller’s murder?”

 

“It’s possible!” exclaimed Marco with excitement, “Come to think of it, maybe this friendly blond only befriended Van Gaal on Mourinho’s order but Van Gaal had no idea. But imagine this, Van Gaal was desperate for a solution and this very helpful friend of his might have let slipped some clever ideas about committing a crime without police detection. Then of course Van Gaal would be tempted. After all, his friend is a police, isn’t he? So his words must have some value. He could also help Van Gaal if things did get out of hand.”

 

“What Van Gaal didn’t know was that his friend was doing all these for Mourinho,” continued Erik, his cheeks deeply flushed now, “And the whole reason for this must be to get us all suspended. This had to be Mourinho’s plan since the beginning.”

 

“But it still doesn’t add up,” frowned Marco, “We didn’t get suspended because of Löw’s death. Mourinho must know that alone wasn’t enough. But how can he be sure that Van Gaal’s death would do the trick though? I mean, had it not been for the police’s involvement, we’d still be fi…” He paused and gasped, “Do you think that lad, Willian, could have lied to us about seeing the police car?”

 

“I don’t think so,” said Erik slowly, “He didn’t strike me as a liar when he told us what he had witnessed.”

 

“Maybe the police officer showed up on purpose!” cried Marco excitedly, “Maybe he is Van Gaal’s friend working for Mourinho and Mourinho was the one who sent those two killers.” He then shook his head, “No, that can’t be right. If that’s the case, the killers wouldn’t send us the audio recording.”

 

“Well, if there’s anything I’m certain of, it would be that the two assassins and the police officer must be working for another group,” said Erik meaningfully. His expression was quite peculiar but Marco was too focused on his own thoughts to notice anything else.

 

“So there’s another group out there killing people,” said Marco loudly, “We’re fighting two enemies at once. Brilliant!”

 

“How do you know that they’re working against us?” asked Erik quietly, “They’ve tried to help us with that audio recording.”

 

“Bloody hell Erik,” exclaimed Marco, “have you watched too many Hollywood films or something? They have murdered someone! They have broken the law and they are criminals!”

 

“Seriously Marco,” cried Erik exasperatedly, “are you really that naive that you believe we as police can solve everything? Of course not! There are criminals out there who evade our capture every day. And some of those bastards are rich enough to buy their way out of trouble. It’s never a fair world! When such people threaten the stability of our world, they have to be taken care of. Do you really think agencies like MI6 and CIA do all their business by the book? Why do they need those secret agents then? They exist for a good reason and this group might be something similar.”

 

“Okay, whatever you say,” said Marco stubbornly, “I know we have faced some difficult situations that require bending of some rules. But it does not mean that I’ll change my belief and suddenly turn into a fan of real-life James Bond. But it’s not important now where they stand. We need to figure out what is going on with Mourinho. So back to the topic: we still can’t figure out how Mourinho could predict the future and know that an officer would…” his voice trailed away and a look of dawning comprehension appeared on his face, “Mourinho has long suspected that someone from that group is working for the police! They must be working against him too so he wanted to confirm that and kill two birds with one stone!”

 

“Maybe that’s why he later tried to Van Gaal out, or at least pretended to,” cried Erik, also joining the discussion enthusiastically, “When he told us that Van Gaal would leave the city in a couple days, he was hoping this information would find its way to the hand of the other group so they would act irrationally and they did! They killed Van Gaal that very night! But…”something else seemed to come to Erik’s mind too and uncertainty crept back to his voice, “what about Willian and his testimony? Did Mourinho control that too? He can’t be this clever and manipulative, can he?”

 

“But remember what Willian had said, he heard gunshots and fighting before the police car had arrived,” said Marco almost feverishly, as he rose from the sofa and started pacing in the room. “I’ll bet you anything it’s the two assassins and Zlatan’s men fighting. Or maybe Mourinho has another group of scumbags working for him? Anyway, doesn’t matter who they are, they must be working for Mourinho and they were there to either kill the assassins or take them back to Mourinho. If the police car hadn’t arrived, the two assassins would be in real trouble and Mourinho’s plan would have worked. He would get the assassins and somehow use that to set us up.” Erik’s face paled visibly but Marco, so absorbed with his own brilliant thought, ignored this altogether once more. “But he had also suspected that someone from that group was with the police so he knew that if that officer did turn up that night to save the day, it would expose him and bring us trouble. I mean come on, how can a police car turn up in the middle of the night without anyone noticing? All Mourinho needed to do was to send someone to that area and look for witnesses. So either way he wins!”

 

“Blimey,” whispered Erik, almost in awe, “I think you’re right. Mourinho had planned everything. We have to be smarter this time to beat him.”

 

“Well,” Marco plunked himself down into the sofa again, “we’re working on the money laundering case, aren’t we? If we can find out the identity of the murdered businessman…”

 

“It still may not be enough though,” Erik scratched his head distractedly, thinking hard. “The murdered businessman may be linked to Mourinho but I’m sure he’s clever enough to hide their connections. After all, that businessman is dead and he can no longer testify no matter how good our questioning skill is. We need something more. What about this Zlatan? Can we try to find out more about him?”

 

“I think Van Gaal must be referring to Zlatan Ibrahimović,” said Marco uncomfortably.

 

“What’s the matter with him?”

 

“Well, he’s, eh,” Marco hesitated, trying to find the right word but failed, “really good.” 

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Okay seriously, we’re talking about the king of the underworld here! They even call him Hades. We’ve known about that prat for quite a while now but haven’t been able to apprehend him so far. He’s so damn good at hiding and fighting that it’s almost impossible to catch him. And the problem is, he’s not one of those mindless tyrannical gits hated by everyone. From our source, he’s actually a very charismatic person, a natural-born leader and a very loyal friend. He treats his friends and his men well so they all worships him and protects him willingly. So no, we won’t be able to capture him overnight. And even if we do, I doubt that he’ll fess up. He probably thinks it’s against the code to be a snitch.”

 

Both of them fell silent, not sure what to do next. Marco felt that they were closer to the truth. But the closer they were, the more they realised how impossible it was to reveal the truth. It was quite disheartening. Just when he was feeling sorry for himself, his mobile rang and Marco picked it up.

 

“Where are you?” David’s curt voice came from the other end of the line.

 

“I’m with Erik at his flat,” said Marco, perking up almost at once, “Why?”

 

“No time to explain. Listen, come to this address as quickly as you can.”

 

“But…”

 

David cut across Marco’s question as if he could read Marco’s mind. “Everyone’s on the way. In fact, your Lewy’s already here. So just bring anything you have about the case and show up okay? See you in a mo’.”

 

Marco stared at the address he had jotted down on a piece of paper. He didn’t even know whose place it was. He certainly didn’t recognise the address and unless he was very much mistaken, it was in a very posh area of Dortmund. Sighing, he relayed the message to Erik and they lost no time in setting out.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It took them 30 minutes to get to the place. When they had finally arrived, both of their jaws dropped. This place wasn’t just a nice house. It was a mansion! The long driveway was surrounded by the handsome tall spruce trees on both sides. The beautiful fountain in front of the house was sprinkling water merrily and Marco saw, unless his eyes were deceiving him (he did have to blink several times just to make sure), some peacocks walking around in the back garden. 

 

“Looks like Olivier has found his soulmate,” smirked Erik, “Or maybe this is his secret castle?”

 

It was Cristiano who answered the door, “Please do come in. Everyone else is here and taking a tour around the house. You can join them if you want. Or if you prefer to get settled in, I can prepare some drinks.”

 

“This is your house?” asked Marco in utter astonishment. He couldn’t imagine anyone as young as Cristiano to be so wealthy.

 

“Well, not really,” smiled Cristiano, “It belongs to a friend of mine, Xabi. He comes from a very affluent family and has his own business. Brilliant man, extremely smart and very easy-going. I’ve worked with him before and once he had learned that I was planning to spend some time in Dortmund, he let me live here for free.”

 

“Where is he now?” asked Erik, while carefully putting his jacket on an expensive-looking coat hanger.

 

“He’s from the Basque Country and has business in England as well. So he never really spends much time here. He’s actually thinking of selling it and has offered me a great price. Wonderful chap Xabi! So I’m thinking of buying it for Irina. I don’t think she wants to live in her old house anymore, not with all the bad memories and such.”

 

Once everyone had returned from their tour, (Marco was surprised that they had the time and energy for something like this with a pressing case in front them. But you never knew with Olivier and İlkay.) Kehli cleared his throat.

 

“We have made some very important progress. I know we’re not there yet and we still have a long way to go. But let’s take a look at what we have so far. Cristiano, why don’t you start?”

 

“Sure,” said Cristiano, sitting up straighter. He connected his laptop to the sickeningly large screen so his research results were displayed clearly to everyone in the room. “I have run through all the accounts that had transferred money to Portugal and Spain and have managed to identify some suspicious ones. I rang the receiving banks and managed to get information on some of the accounts. About half of them actually had another money transfer abroad soon afterwards. Naturally, I investigated further into those transferred and most of them went to Eastern European countries, like Poland, Romania, Czech Republic.”

 

“That’s where we stepped in,” continued Lewy calmly and Marco turned all his attention to him. “After Cristiano had sent me and Tomáš the information, we started contacting our respective leads. Some of the transfer routes were very complicated, with money going back and forth between those countries several times. Finally, we have managed to narrow the transactions down to a little over 2000. The majority of those went to somewhere in South America.”

 

“We have found similar results,” said Mesut, “The route we looked at are the French-speaking countries. Vinnie is unbelievable. He has provided us with contacts in Belgium and several African countries.”

 

“The money was first transferred to France,” said Olivier, “Then some of it made its way directly to Africa while the rest took a detour to Belgium. Once it got to Africa, things became a little bit murky. Using Vinnie’s contacts, we’ve managed to trace some of it while the rest just disappeared off the record. Of the part we could trace, some went to South America while the rest went to Southeast Asia. Since we have no contact in that part of the world, I’ve put those accounts aside.”

 

“It seems like a lot of the suspicious money has found its way to South America,” said Marco thoughtfully, “Do we know which countries?”

 

“That’s part of the problem,” sighed David, “It’s literally every country there, Argentina and Brazil of course. But we also have Chile, Uruguay, Perú, Venezuela, Colombia, etc.”

 

“We’ve contacted Alexis about the money going into Chile because that’s his country,” said Mesut, “We’re hoping he could come up with something.”

 

“He most certainly will,” said Olivier with glee, “I can’t wait to see Alexis hacking into the network of every single Chilean bank! It will be such a scene! Just imagine...”

 

“What about the rest?” asked Shinji before Olivier could get completely lost in this happy prospect.

 

“We’re waiting to hear back from Kun,” answered Joe, “A big chunk of the money went to Argentina and Brazil. If we can just figure out where that part eventually went to, it will be a big step forward.”

 

“Maybe I can check with a couple friends of mine in Brazil,” offered Cristiano, “Both of them are completely trustworthy and reliable.”

 

David and Kehli exchanged a quick look, “Are you quite sure?”

 

“One hundred percent!” said Cristiano eagerly, “One of them, Ricky, is a priest and the most honourable man anyone will ever meet! He also comes from a very well-connected family so I think he really can help us. The other one, Marcelo, I’ve known him for years that I can trust him with my life.”

 

“In that case,” said Kehli solemnly, “I would say let’s try it. But please be careful. Don’t give them too much information at first. It’s for their protection as well.”

 

“Sure,” said Cristiano confidently, “I’ll only give them some general information like bank names to see if they have any contacts. No point giving them detailed information unless they can help. I never put my friends in unnecessary danger.”

 

“Excellent,” said David, “Now we just have to wai…”

 

Before he could finish his sentence though, a loud beeping noise came from Joe’s laptop. Joe hurried over to check his new email.

 

“Is it from Kun?” asked David eagerly and Joe nodded, “Yeah, it’s from Kun but…”

 

“What did it say?” Olivier jumped from his seat and moved next to Joe, peeking over Joe’s shoulder to read the email, “‘Here’s something you might like, Harty. You’re welcome, Kun.’ Well that sounds promising but I wish he could spell it out. He’s attached an excel file! It must be the information of the accounts we sent him.”

 

“How is that possible?” frowned David, “We only sent him the information this morning. He couldn’t possibly have all that ready within several hours.”

 

“Who cares how he does it,” said Olivier impatiently, “as long as he has the results. Come on Joe, open the attachment.”

 

Joe quickly connected his laptop to the big screen and clicked open the excel file. Everyone gaped at the screen, their mouths open in utter disbelief.  

 

“Holy mother of …” cried Mesut softly, “Is that really?”

 

“Yes,” said David through gritted teeth. His mouth was twitching uncontrollably and Marco felt so bad for him. No matter how much David had changed because of the cases they were dealing with, this kind of blatant rule breaking could still turn him from a nice calm young lad into an active volcano ready to erupt at any second. “You’re indeed looking at the top-level security access information to every single bank system in South America. Of course, only Kun can get something like that.”

 

“Who the hell is this Kun anyway?” asked İlkay, which was exactly what Marco and everyone else was wondering.

 

“He’s a crime scene inspector in the London police,” said Mesut in equal bewilderment, “A top fella, always smiling and willing to help. I mean I know he’s from Argentina but I can’t understand how on earth he has managed to get such classified information.”

 

“Maybe he has really good connection,” piped up Joe excitedly, “I mean, Kun can barely speak English but he’s working for the London police, isn’t he? Come to think of it, I don’t even know if he’s a citizen or not. I’m not saying he’s not brilliant, but he needed Zaba to translate everything for him when he first arrived!”

 

“He must know some real badass bloke!” Olivier’s expression could only be described as ecstatic, “I mean, only a top…” His voice trailed off and he suddenly gasped, “Jesus Christ! So the rumours ARE true! Our little Kun really is…” He then pointed his finger accusingly at David, “And you’ve known this all along and never told us, not even Joe! How can you keep such big gossips from us?!”

 

“Yes,” sighed David, “I do know it because Kun has told in me in the strictest confidence about who his wife is. I, of course, cannot break my promise to him. But since you’ve figured it out, I suppose there’s no harm in letting you know now.”

 

“Oh come on David,” whined Joe, “Just spill it out. I’m dying for some gossip!”

 

David took a deep breath and said, “Kun, or Sergio Agüero, is the son-in-law of none other than THE Diego Maradona.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really unexpected because I never intend to to put Diego in this fic lol. The idea just sort of popped into my head and I can't get it out! I think Diego will make a real appearance soon and I'm kind of really excited about that :)
> 
> Again, please ignore all the made-up rubbish about money laundering. I'm sure that's not how those cases work in real life but I'm just improvising wildly here lol.


	33. Case 5 - Everyone Has a Story to Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of Diego and Irina

“THE Diego Maradona?” To everyone’s surprise, it was Cristiano who broke the shocked silence, “As in the legendary police officer turned mafia drug dealer turned INTERPOL Special Advisory Committee founder? The one with the ‘Hand of God’?”

 

“Who is him again?” asked Shinji in genuine confusion. Marco rolled his eyes. Trust Shinji to know any gossip!

 

“How do you even know him?” asked İlkay in surprise, “I thought only those within the field know about Diego Maradona.”

 

“Oh come on,” said Cristiano impatiently, “everyone in South America knows Diego Maradona. The fella is a fucking legend! Even Ricky said that even though Diego might have done something improper in the past, he’s after all a decent bloke. Marcelo on the other hand, worships Diego. So of course I’ve heard of him. If you ask your Alexis, he would have heard of Diego too.”

 

“Can somebody please explain who he is?” Shinji was getting seriously curious and a little annoyed now. It seemed like he was the only one in the dark.

 

“Diego Maradona is the most brilliant detective of all time. Of course, there are loads of people out there who think Pelé is the best but Diego is my absolute favourite. He started as a police officer from Argentina,” said Cristiano enthusiastically. Apparently he couldn’t wait for an opportunity to recount the life story of the legendary Diego Maradona. Personally, considering what Diego had done in the past, Marco thought Cristiano’s choice of a role model didn’t boast much of his taste. But to each his own, Marco listened to Justin Bieber’s songs himself so he doubted that he could judge anyone else’s taste. Cristiano however, continued his storytelling with such passion that Marco suspected that he must have done this multiple times. 

 

“Diego was completely brilliant, a total genius at solving really complex crimes. Mind you, he was also known for his unorthodox method but nobody really cared because he was pretty much the only one who could work out those clues. He was so good that they offered him a position in Barcelona. Rumour had it that what they really wanted was for him to work in Italy because of all their mafia problems. But he had to work in Barcelona first to get his visa or whatever figured out. So two years later, Diego went to Naples and stayed there for almost ten years. Now that was when all the controversies around him began. Diego quit his job after several years and when he emerged again, he was a drug dealer within the infamous Camorra. Nobody knew if he was working as an undercover police officer or if he had turned into a real criminal. But those within the Camorra seemed to trust him and he was spotted working with them many times.A couple years later, Diego left Naples to return to Sevilla. Some said that he was fleeing the revenge of the Camorra or the capture of the police but I don’t believe it. I think he was simply tired of what he was doing and he wanted to go home. And home he went. A year later, he was back in Argentina, with no criminal history on his record whatsoever. I suppose that’s why Pelé disliked Diego so much. Pelé is a much more traditional police officer and he never liked controversial characters like Diego, which made it a bit hard for Diego to find a job in Argentina because Pelé is very influential in South America. Several years later however, Diego was invited to found the Special Advisory Committee for INTERPOL. He accepted the offer, but insisted that he must spend most of his time in South America. INTERPOL needed his talent so badly that they agreed to all his requests. So he’s pretty much the king of South America now. It wouldn’t surprise me at all that he can manage to get all that information. And your friend is his son-in-law? Lucky chap!”

 

David nodded, “Kun never wants anyone to know because he has always wanted to prove his worth. He met Diego’s daughter, Giannina, and they fell madly in love. Kun has always wanted to be a police officer but felt that he would always be treated differently in Argentina as the son-in-law of Diego. Diego is simply too famous in South America. So Diego pulled some strings and sent Kun to England. I think the only one who knew when Kun arrived was Zaba, his fellow Argentinian and a great friend. But to us, he’s just Kun and his wife is just Giannina, which is exactly what they have wanted. I learned of Kun’s secret by accident because I had to send him home one night after he was pissed drunk and saw their family photo with Diego in it. I’ve promised Kun I’ll never say a word to anyone else though. But I suppose times have changed now.”

 

“Wow,” said Mesut in an awed voice, “Diego Maradona! I’ve never thought… Kun’s so good at keeping a secret though.”

 

“Diego’s the one I look up to the most growing up. ” Olivier’s eyes were shining brightly, which in Marco’s opinion usually spelt trouble. “I mean I know Pelé is great and everything but Diego is just so much more interesting and cool. I’ve always wanted to be someone like him, which is why I became a police officer. I’ll have to meet Diego when I get back to England! I’ll buy him a drink and listen to all his stories. I’m sure I can pick up a few tricks from him.”

 

“God help us!” muttered David, “All we need now is you on drug!”

 

“Does it really make a difference?” said Joe in a very clear whisper, “I’ve always thought Oli is on drug all the time anyway.”

 

Once everyone had calmed down from this unexpected surprise, Kelhi started to allocate work to everyone, “Even though we have the access information and are technically not hacking into their systems, I don’t want this to be traced back to us. Joe, can you find a way to mask our IP?”

 

“Absolutely,” chirped Joe excitedly, “I’ve been working with Alexis on developing an untraceable VPN program. It’s mostly done development-wise and we just have a couple bugs to work through. Give me two more hours and you’ll have it.”

 

“Brilliant!” nodded Kehli, “Once Joe’s done, we’ll start looking into the database to find the data we need. Now I’m not so tech-savvy but if anyone knows a way to find the information quickly, that will be great.”

 

“As long as they use relational database, I can write some SQL scripts for that.” Lewy smiled at the amazed expression on Marco’s face, “My job requires me to look into databases for financial institutions all the time so I’m kind of an expert in that. Of course, different databases may require slightly different scripts but I’m sure I can tweak them if needed.”

 

“Why don’t you start right now since we’re waiting on Joe anyway,” said David and Lewy nodded with a grin. He rose up from the seat, came to Marco and kissed him full on the lips before heading to the first-floor study to work. İlkay leered and whistled at Marco, who rolled his eyes and flipped him the bird. 

 

“Everyone else,” said Kehli who smiled indulgently at the childish behaviour of his charges, “take your pick. Claims the ones you want to investigate. Cristiano, I want you to look at the compiled data from everyone’s search results.”

 

So everyone got to work on their laptops. With Diego’s invaluable information and Lewy’s clever database querying scripts, the laptops were churning out results, which were fed instantaneously to Cristiano’s laptop to be compiled and reviewed. Barely three hours later, they had finished searching all the databases and gathered around Cristiano to look at the analysis results.

 

“Of all the accounts we’re looking at,” said Cristiano, “about a quarter of them don’t have another international transaction. Some of them had the money withdrawn later while others had the money transferred to another local account. I can’t really find a pattern in those transactions to deem them suspicious. So they’re in the first group: unlikely to be involved. Another third of the accounts do have another international transaction, but the destinations are random and widespread. Some of the money went to the U.S., some to England, some to other South American countries, some to East Asia. But none of those countries have a single account that has received more than 5 transactions from these accounts. So I put them into the second group: might be involved. The rest of them are the interesting ones. All of them have money transferred to one country: Russia.”

 

“Russia?” Lewy asked the question for everyone and Cristiano nodded, “Yes, Russia. Those transactions happened throughout the past 10 years, steadily depositing money into three accounts in three separate banks in Russia. If this doesn’t look suspicious enough, none of the transactions are big enough to catch anyone’s attention. I bet those three receiving accounts all belong to the same person or someone connected to that person. Interestingly enough, none of those banks require the name of the account holder to be released when making a wire transfer to the account. So we can’t identify that person from these transaction records. But if we can find a way to get that information from…”

 

Russia, murder, businessman… As Cristiano was talking, Marco was thinking furiously and finally something clicked. “Andrei Abramovich!” Marco blurted it out and everyone stared at him. “Andrei Abramovich must be the account holder! He was Russian, murdered in Dortmund several months ago, and a rich businessman. He had lived in Dortmund long enough to know Van Gaal and people have long talked about the source of his money! It must be him!”

 

To his slight surprise and disappointment, Marco didn’t get the expected reaction he thought he ought to receive for his brilliant discovery. It was true that İlkay, Shinji, and Kehli all looked impressed. But everyone else seemed lost in their thoughts.

 

David was looking intently at Olivier who, despite his best effort, looked a bit shifty. Marco could feel Olivier’s unease under David’s piercing look and saw the concerned look on Mesut’s face and, unless he was very much mistaken, a warning look from Tomáš. It was such a fleeting look that Marco wondered if it was the trick of the light. Before he had time to process this unexpected exchange between the two however, Marco saw something even more curious. He could see that Lewy’s face had paled ever so slightly. It was a rather subtle change but since Marco knew Lewy so well, he could still see it. Lewy’s fists were also clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Erik was looking from one to the other, his mouth slightly open as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to begin. Joe on the other hand, stood next to David with his arm wrapped securely around his tiny frame. His face was calm but his body was taut and Marco bet Joe would jump into action at any second. The bubble of suspicion was growing larger and larger inside Marco and he was almost too afraid to look into it. He had the feeling that he would hate himself for probing too much and knowing the truth. 

 

It was Cristiano who broke the uncomfortable silence, “Er, actually, I have thought about that possibility.” He sighed deeply and everyone turned their attention to him immediately. “I was hoping it would not be him, which is why I’ve put off asking… But I suppose I can’t ignore the evidence now.”

 

“What do you…” asked İlkay but Marco suddenly understood why. Cristiano was worried about Irina. Being Andrei Abramovich’s widow, Irina would of course be serious affected because of her late husband’s involvement in a major money laundering case. Andrei Abramovich’s murder case would be re-opened and she might be asked many unpleasant questions about his death and their relationship. Someone might even suspect her involvement. What was more, even if she was cleared of any blame, it might still hurt her because if the money laundering case was true, Andrei Abramovich’s properties might be confiscated, which included the part bequeathed to her.

 

“I’m sorry Cristiano,” said David softly, who had obviously caught on with no difficulty, “But I’m afraid Ms Shayk’s help is crucial to the case. If she could identify those account numbers as her late husband’s, we’ll have some pretty convincing evidence to move to the next step. She could even make such inquiries for us. She’s the only one with such rights, apart from Roman Abramovich of course.”

 

“I know,” sighed Cristiano again, “I just don’t want her hurt again. I know how much she hates it all, which is why she had decided to move back to Russia for a while. I’ve only managed to convince her to come back to Dortmund and now she’ll be dragged into this mess again?”

 

“It will be fine,” said Kehli in a very authoritative tone, “We’re asking for her help and the investigation will be discreet and informal. I know it must be hard for Ms Shayk, which is why we appreciate her sacrifice even more. But please remember we’re your friends Cristiano.”

 

“Okay fine, Irina is out visiting a friend but I’ll phone her right now to see if she could come around soon. But please,” said Cristiano pleadingly, “don’t be mad at her if she doesn’t feel comfortable with it yet. Her marriage with Abramovich was a disaster to start with but his death was an even more traumatic experience for her. Can you imagine walking into your dead husband’s body one morning?”

 

“We understand completely,” said Mesut patiently, “Like Kehli said, we’re asking for her help so we’ll respect her decision either way. I’m sure we’ll find a way to get those information anyway. We’ll also try our best not to bring up Mr Abramovich’s murder. It’s really not the focus of the current case.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

An hour later, they had finally met the mysterious Irina Shayk. Marco could immediately understand why Abramovich married her because she was simply stunning. She was very tall, only slightly shorter than Marco and much taller than David. But when she walked towards them, she carried herself elegantly and her slender figure made her height not so daunting. Her soft dark brown curls hugged her beautifully tanned face casually while her dreamy green eyes were sharp and a little wary. Cristiano rose up quickly to greet her and she finally smiled at him, her sensual full lips curving up lovingly.

 

“Ms Shayk,” said David, as all the straight blokes still seemed spellbound by Irina’s sheer beauty, “thank you so much for coming to help us. I cannot describe how much we appreciate this and how sorry we are to trouble you even further.”

 

“Cristiano has told me what had happened,” said Irina with a soft Russian accent, “I was debating if I should come but I’ve decided that I ought to. Not because I hold any grudge against my late husband, may he rest in peace. But rather because I feel that I am obligated to give you information with the hope that it would help find justice for those who deserve it. Now I don’t always agree with what my late husband did but I hope you may show him respect since he had, God bless his soul, passed away from this world.”

 

“You’ve made a very honourable and courageous decision, Ms Shayk,” said Kehli, who seemed to have regained his composure, “We understand your feeling completely and agree with you one hundred percent.”

 

Irina nodded regally and sat down next to Cristiano, who immediately took her hand into his. She smiled at him before starting her story.

 

“I met my husband more than 10 years ago. He wasn’t the rich billionaire that he turned out to be later. But he was a charming man and very clever. His company just started not so long ago but I could tell that he would make a fortune for himself one way or the other. I’ve never really asked him what exactly his business was because I wasn’t interested in business anyway. He didn’t want me to know either so things stayed that way for quite a while. But when you live with someone so intimately, you will know things about them that are meant to be secrets. So I started hearing rumours about what his company did in those war-ridden countries. I was deeply shocked and I was too afraid to ask him. I didn’t know how to deal with it if the rumours turned out to be true. How could I live with a cold-blooded man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted? So I kept telling myself that those were just rumours borne out of jealousy for his success. But deep down, I knew they were probably right. I was just an ostrich with its head in the sand, refusing to see the obvious.” She paused, unable to contain her emotions. Cristiano pulled her into his embrace and kissed her softly on the top of her head. Everyone else waited patiently, to give her time to recover.

 

“A couple years later,” continued Irina, her beautiful green eyes slightly wet, “I overheard his conversation on the phone with whom I believe was Louis Van Gaal. My husband called him Louis and he was talking about getting money into his account from abroad. I don’t remember the details of the conversation because it was such a long time ago but I knew that it had confirmed my suspicions that my husband was indeed doing something illegal. That was also when our marriage was beyond salvation. I simply could not live with someone like that. So I started to distance myself from him. But my husband, despite all his other faults, loved me very much indeed. He had tried his best to save our marriage and it was this that had stopped me from informing the police of what I had heard. I may no longer love him but I didn’t have the heart to turn someone who I used to love and still loved me to the police.”

 

“But he was involved with Héctor Bellerín,” asked David gently, “Is it safe for us to assume that your marriage didn’t work out in the end?”

 

“Towards the end of our marriage, my husband had given up on me,” said Irina, “He didn’t want a divorce and he had made sure I was well provided for wherever I went. So I started travelling and that was how I met Cristiano. My husband on the other hand, spent most of his time in Dortmund and Moscow to manage his business. Later Cristiano had decided to come to Dortmund to be with me and my husband had never objected to my love affair with Cristiano. Deep down though I sort of knew that this had finally broken his heart and that was why he started to look for comfort elsewhere.”

 

Marco suddenly remembered how Héctor’s lips somewhat resembled Irina’s. He wondered if Andrei Abramovich had been subconsciously looking for someone who could remind him of his one true love. 

 

“Do you know where the money went?” asked Lewy and Irina shrugged, “Like I said, I’ve never looked into my husband’s business. This was even more so in the past several years when we had grown ever so apart. The only thing I know is that he was investing in companies in Dortmund and Russia, mostly tech ones. He had always been very interested in technology, which he believed was the future. But other than that, I really don’t know.”

 

“Thank you so much Ms Shayk,” said Kehli sincerely and Cristiano squeezed Irina’s hand gratefully. “One more thing, could you identify these accounts as your late husband’s?”

 

Irina took a quick look at the account information and said, “The first one belonged to my husband. I’m not so sure about the second one. The third one is actually under his mother’s name. I knew it because I had to transfer some money to that account once.”

 

They looked at each other excitedly. If Irina’s words were true, they had some real lead here. All they needed to do now was to find out where the money went. Since there weren’t so many tech companies in Dortmund, their search shall be fairly easy.

 

“Actually,” said Olivier suddenly, “We should ask Alexis’ for help. He does contracting for several companies in Dortmund. Maybe he can get some insider information.”

 

“That’s a brilliant idea,” agreed Lewy, “Some of my clients are tech companies too. The two of us should be able to get all the information you need.”

 

While everyone was bolstered by the new discoveries and their sudden change in luck, Cristiano noticed the hesitant look on Irina’s face, “What’s the matter babe?”

 

Irina chewed on her lips and frowned, “Well, I’m not sure if I should mention this. This may have nothing to do with the case. But I did overhear something else.”

 

“What is it?” asked Olivier eagerly.

 

“My husband was talking to his brother about politics,” said Irina, looking very disturbed, “and Roman was I believe, trying to persuade my brother to be a sponsor for this politician. Roman was convinced that he had great potential. He said that with their help, that politician could be the chancellor of Germany one day and he certainly intended to make that happen.”

 

“Who is that politician?” David was almost yelling but Marco could hardly blame him. His own heart was beating so fast in his chest that he had to fight his urge to grab Irina and shake the answer out of her. Somehow he had a feeling he knew what the answer was.

 

“He is the current mayor of Dortmund,” said Irina flatly, “José Mourinho.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're getting closer and closer to the truth :) Next chapter should wrap up Case 5 and we'll have one (or maybe two depending on how you look at it) case. I was hoping I could finish this fic in 2015 but it's looking more and more unlikely. I just ramble too much I suppose lol.
> 
> I just couldn't help writing a story for Diego (not part of the original plot) lol. I never intended to write a real story for Irina and Andrei Abramovich either but the fic sort of took its own course. I hope this adds a bit depth to Andrei Abramovich and Irina's character.


	34. Case 5 - The Perks of Being a Male Model

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team made a breakthrough in the case. Furthermore, they were reinstated because of the help from a mysterious someone. Needless to say, José Mourinho wasn't pleased.

“That must be their ultimate goal then,” said Kehli quietly.

 

“I’m afraid so,” said Tomáš darkly, which surprised Marco as he didn’t expect Tomáš to know so much when they as police knew almost nothing, “I’ve been following the political situation in Dortmund for quite some time and I’ve definitely noticed some funny things going on here. José’s rise to power was almost overnight. One day he was just an interpreter for the previous mayor. The next day he became the youngest mayor in Dortmund. Mind you, he isn’t the most popular fella out there and a lot of people dislike him even though he’s quite capable. When Pep Guardiola had decided to run for the mayor earlier this year, everyone thought José’s days were numbered. But…” Tomáš paused meaningfully, “Pep Guardiola’s wife turned out to be a murderer, which forced Pep to withdraw from the election. Lucky for José huh?”

 

“Are you saying that José has something to do with Beatrix Guardiola’s case? But how?” cried Marco in utter astonishment. He knew José was a clever manipulative bastard, but he didn’t expect him to be so calculating. Could they really win against such an enemy?

 

“We don’t know for sure,” sighed Tomáš, “I don’t think Mourinho had actually managed to persuade Beatrix Guardiola to kill Miss Costa for him. That’s just too ridiculous. Beatrix Guardiola was dying for her husband to win. But he might have somehow influenced Beatrix Guardiola so that she thought Miss Costa would be a threat to Pep’s political career. But that’s just our hypothesis really.”

 

“That’s still a brilliant one though,” said Marco with stars in his eyes. Lewy cleared his throat and shifted closer to Marco. İlkay’s whistle soon turned into a hasty cough under Marco’s threatening look. 

 

“The problem is,” said David reasonably, “we don’t have proof for any of that. Technically, Roman Abramovich didn’t commit any crime by helping Mourinho. Almost all politicians have their sponsors. But if the money used to sponsor Mourinho is from dubious source, that’s a different story. We need to find out if Andrei Abramovich’s money has eventually found its way to Mourinho’s campaign.”

 

“Could you help us with that?” asked Cristiano gently to Irina, who smiled sadly, “I can try but I’m not sure. My husband didn’t leave me anything related to his business. All of that was given to Roman. Let me see if I can find out more from my personal financial advisor.”

 

A loud crashing noise, followed by a series of loud rapid Spanish expletives from outside the house made everyone jump. Olivier smirked, “It must be Alexis. I’ve told him to come and help us.”

 

Joe raised an eyebrow, “Hasn’t he broken his leg?”

 

“Only his right one,” said Olivier casually, “He could still drive. It’s no big deal for Alexis really. He’s had worse.”

 

“You can be such a git sometimes,” said Joe shaking his head.

 

“Well, whatever,” shrugged Olivier, as he rose up to open the door, “he’s almost gone mental being stuck at home all these days. I’m actually doing him a favour.”  

 

Sure enough, it was Alexis sprawled on the staircases outside Cristiano’s mansion. Marco doubted he had really hurt himself though, if his booming cursing was anything to go by. “In the name of God Olivier, can’t you pick up your fucking mobile? I’ve phoned 5 fucking times while leaning on my fucking crutches and you didn’t pick the fuck up?! What’s the fucking point of having a mobile then?”

 

“Sorry, sorry,” said Olivier though he was still grinning. Both he and Joe went ahead to carry Alexis into the room. Once they had deposited the still cursing Alexis to the sofa, David spoke up, which had finally shut Alexis up. “So, I take it that Olivier has informed you of our discoveries? Good. Now we need your help.”

 

After David had finished explaining what needed to be done, Marco sat next to Alexis, who still looked grumpy but Marco understood why. Breaking one’s leg was never fun and it was 10 times worse when the case was in a critical stage. So he felt he should show some compassion for Alexis after all. “How’s your leg?”

 

“It hurts like hell,” said Alexis testily, “And it’s all Olivier’s fault. The stupid prat told me to go hiking with him but he ditched me at the last minute.”

 

Marco frowned, “Olivier told us that you were being an idiot and broke your leg rock climbing.”

 

Alexis’ expression froze for a moment but he recovered quickly enough, “Yeah, I changed plan because he bailed on me. I’m surprised that he had the guts to tell you that I was being stupid! He’s such an insufferable narcissistic wanker!”

 

Marco still found it a bit suspicious but he didn’t have the time to probe any further because Mesut came to find them, looking harassed, “Marco I need your help. David and Oliver are each other’s throats again and Joe’s not helping.”

 

Marco rolled his eyes, “What’s the matter with them now?”

 

“Something about hacking into the company's’ database,” said Mesut distractedly.

 

“Let me handle this,” said Alexis excitedly, “I need to kick Olivier’s arse anyway.”

 

Once Alexis and Mesut were gone, Marco decided that he should go and see if he could help Lewy, who was talking animatedly with Cristiano, “We should start with companies that have received investment from Russia or Germany or even England. I don’t want to rule Roman Abramovich out just yet.”

 

“I agree,” nodded Cristiano, “We can focus on tech companies first. There shouldn’t be that many and I hope we can go through their annual reports quickly enough. Then I would look at those with high cash flows, like casinos or brokerage firms.” 

 

So they started working again. Marco wasn’t that familiar with companies’ annual financial reports but Lewy took some time to explain the basics to him. Luckily, Lewy and Cristiano were the real experts while David and Mesut had had their fair share in dealing with financial crimes. Nobody left Cristiano’s place and Kehli had to shoo them to bed at 1 am.

 

“You all need your sleep!” said Kehli with his hands on his hips, looking surprisingly like a mother hen. “Especially you Alexis. No,” he raised his voice even higher at the look on Alexis’ face, “You look absolutely exhausted. The last thing we need now is for you to fall over and break your face!”

 

“That might actually do him some good,” muttered Olivier. Everybody laughed while Alexis, confined in his seat because of his broken leg, made a valiant effort to lunge at Olivier but ended up falling face down into the sofa cushion.

 

“Why don’t you all sleep here?” said Cristiano amongst the howls of laughter at Alexis’ plight, “My place is big enough to house you all and you don’t have to travel back and forth. I’ve also got spare clothes for you all.”

 

“But we are different sizes,” said David skeptically, “Are you sure you can…”

 

“I’m an amateur fashion model in my spare time,” said Cristiano blushing slightly, “It’s really just a hobby because I like trying on and collecting nice clothes. I do it for free and get free clothes of all sizes in return.”

 

“Well,” said Kehli, “if everybody is okay with it…”

 

“We are!” cried Olivier enthusiastically, “New places always add excitement to…”

 

“For heaven’s sake Olivier,” laughed Mesut, “we’re working on a case, not out on holiday. Besides, it’s already late. I just want to go to bed.”

 

Cristiano shrugged, “Whatever you do inside your room is okay with me. Thank goodness Xabi’s houses always have excellent sound-proof system.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Marco woke up the next morning, he found that Lewy had already left the room. After a quick shower, he opened the wardrobe in his room and found that Cristiano was indeed telling the truth. The wardrobe, which seemed bigger than Marco’s own flat, was packed with clothes of different sizes, all of them very edgy and fashionable. Marco sighed and picked the most comfortable-looking one and got dressed quickly.

 

When he walked into the living room, Marco thought he had accidentally stepped into the changing room of a fashion show. Everyone was dressed in trendy clothes that made them look like supermodels, even though some of them seemed a bit uncomfortable in their new clothes.

 

Alexis seemed determined to be in a bad mood and was eyeing his tight leather trousers with disgust. Kehli was talking to David while unconsciously trying to cover the holes in his jeans. David had somehow managed to find what Marco suspected was one of Cristiano’s workout clothes. It was several sizes too big for him, which made him look like a little kid in his parent’s clothes. But at least it looked quite normal. İlkay seemed to find the whole thing very entertaining and was wearing the most ridiculous outfit he could put together, a lurid pink tight T-shirt with a gigantic smily face on it and some extremely baggy jeans. Olivier on the other hand, was playing with a hat with feathers on it. To Marco’s immense relief, Lewy’s clothes seemed quite normal, even though both the shirt and the trousers had the entire Colosseum painted on them. But then again, Marco would find Lewy attractive even when he was wearing paper bags for clothes.

 

“We’ve finished our initial research,” said Kehli after breakfast, “I have the list of companies that have received investment from Russia, Germany, and England compiled for you.” He nodded at Lewy and Cristiano, “Now you have to tell us which ones to focus on.”

 

“Give us some time and we’ll let you know.” said Cristiano confidently and they got to work immediately.

 

Luckily, they didn’t have to wait too long for the first candidate to show up.

 

“Hey, take a look at this one,” said Lewy as he walked out of the study with a pile of paper in his hand, “It’s a tech company specialising in mobile apps. Their annual report says that the main revenue generator for the past couple years has been this fitness-tracking mobile application. Look at that number,” he thrusted the report to Cristiano, “Don’t you think it looks a bit high?”

 

“Indeed,” said Cristiano, intrigued, “They claim that the revenue comes from ads and sponsorship, as well as in-app purchases. Hmm, this is interesting. The revenue from in-app purchase is surprisingly low compared to that from ads and sponsorship.”

 

“Exactly!” said Lewy excitedly, “I’ve looked into their number of downloads and it isn’t very impressive. I’ve even downloaded the app myself. Absolute rubbish. So who in their right mind would pay them big money for ads and sponsorship?”

 

“Andrei Abramovich must have shares in those companies too!” cried Cristiano, “He was basically transferring his money from one source to the other, legalising them in the process.”

 

“And guess who did their auditing?” said Lewy in a triumphant tone.

 

“Van Gaal?” asked Marco before Cristiano could answer. It was not that he didn’t like Cristiano. It was just that he didn’t want to be left out of the discussion. He certainly wasn’t jealous thank you very much. 

 

“Exactly!” said Lewy with a knowing smile. Cristiano shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Now we just need to confirm that Andrei Abramovich did invest in both this company and the company that paid them the ads and sponsorship.”

 

“I’ll work on that!” said Alexis eagerly as he jumped, and failed, into action.

 

Several hours later, they had narrowed their searches down to three main candidates.

 

“Alexis has confirmed the investment of the mobile app company came from Andrei Abramovich’s account,” said Lewy, “His mother’s account is involved in the company that sponsored the mobile app company.”

 

“The other one is a brokerage firm,” continued Cristiano, “Van Gaal was a stakeholder and Andrei Abramovich had invested money in it. The last one was the one we were not certain about. The investment came from the account we couldn’t identify. I’m waiting to see if Irina can find out more about the account but in the meantime, we have to work with the information we have at hand.”

 

“We need the detailed accounting record of the companies,” said Lewy, “not just those three, but also the one that Andrei Abramovich’s mother’s account had invested in. Unless we can get those, we can’t know for sure if they have manipulated their figures. Even that may not be enough, if they have someone faking the accounting for them. In short, we need a search warrant. Otherwise we have to hack into their system again.”

 

“It’ll be a piece of cake for me.” said Alexis confidently but Kehli cut him off, “No, if we hack into their system, the information we get cannot be used as evidence. I need to speak with Roman and Jürgen about this. Our suspension is ridiculous and we need to lift it as soon as possible. With the amount of information we have, any reasonable person would lift the suspension and give us a search warrant.”

 

“Yeah but we’re dealing with a nutter, aren’t we?” said Olivier darkly, “José won’t let us work on this case. He’ll be digging his own grave if he lets us out. He’ll find every excuse to stop us from returning and knowing him, I’d say his excuses will be valid. Our only option is to hack into the system. Once we get the information we need, we’ll find a way to pass it on to the right person.”

 

“We have to try the legal way first,” said Kehli firmly, “I’m phoning Roman and Jürgen right now.”

 

Once Kehli had left the room, Olivier rolled his eyes and said lazily, “It’s not going to work I guarantee you! Why waste the time and energy?”

 

Nobody answered him. Marco didn’t like it but he had to agree with Olivier. Their chance of working on this case through José seemed quite abysmal at this point. Was there another way? Maybe they could pass the information in secret to Benedikt’s team. Mats would certainly hate him for that but it came down to it, Marco had to do what he had to do. 

 

When Kehli returned, he didn’t seem too optimistic, “Roman and Jürgen said that they’d try. They didn’t sound very hopeful though, especially since Jürgen’s suspended himself. Well, that was worth a try. Let’s wait to hear back from them.”

 

So they waited. Olivier was snuggling with Mesut, talking in low whispers. Marco noticed that Olivier had put his stupid hat on and Mesut had to swat away the feathers from his face every now and then. İlkay and Shinji were playing games on their mobile. Erik was on the phone, probably with Neven. Lewy had his head together with Cristiano in front of the computer, still working on the case. Kehli sat next to them to listen to their conversation, clearly not understanding a word they were saying despite the determined expression on his face. Joe was, to Marco’s surprise, talking to Alexis in low soothing voices, which seemed to drive Alexis up the wall. David was nowhere to be found.

 

Half an hour later, Kehli’s mobile rang. Marco watched Kehli as he walked to the far corner of the room to pick up the call. Kehli’s expression soon turned from neutral to disappointed and Marco’s heart sank.

 

“I’m sorry lads,” said Kehli heavily, “But it seems that our mayor doesn’t want to have this case solved after all.”

 

“I’ve told you so!” said Olivier almost triumphantly, “Let’s go back to the original plan and hacking it is!”

 

“Not so fast.” David’s calm voice got all of their attention. “I think I’ve just sorted this one out. Let’s go to the office. We should have our reinstatement letter soon enough.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

On their way to the CID, everyone badgered David on what strings he had pulled. But David merely smiled mysteriously and looked out of the window of the car. Marco had an inkling but he had to wait to confirm it.

 

Their entrance to the CID was quite a surprise. Some, like Marcel, came to greet them enthusiastically. “Have they lifted the ban on you?” asked Marcel happily, “I’m so glad you lads are back! Benedikt’s team has been so overwhelmed with work that we have to help. They shouldn’t have suspended you in the first place. You’ve done nothing wrong! Just unlucky that’s all.”

 

“Well, somebody told us to come back,” Marco smiled at his friend, “Not sure if it’s official but we’ll see. It’s good to be back.”

 

Marcel wasn’t the only one happy for their arrival. For the first time in his life, Marco saw Roman smiling happily when they turned up. Even Olivier’s ludicrous hat (which he had kept despite having changed into his uniform) hadn’t dampened Roman’s good mood. David however, went straight to business. “We need a search warrant Roman. Here’s all the information we have so far. If you could take a look and issue one, we’ll go straight to those companies to gather more evidence.”

 

“But…,” said Roman looking thoroughly confused, “you’re still suspended. How can you…”

 

“Don’t worry,” smiled David, “The ban will be lifted in no time. Please Roman, we don’t have time to waste. We need the search warrant asap so we can set out to gather evidence when our reinstatement letter arrives.”

 

Roman looked intently at David, who held his gaze confidently. “Fine,” sighed Roman, “I’ll take a look at the documents and issue a warrant if they are satisfactory. It may take a while though.”

 

After a quick change of pleasantries with Benedikt’s team, the team had to nothing else to do but wait. This was interrupted an hour later however, when José stormed into the CID.

 

“Gentlemen,” said José slowly, looking rather livid, “I’ve been told that you have decided to come back to the CID despite the fact that you’re all suspended until further notice from me. And, unless I’m very much mistaken, you all intend to work while suspended. Anyone care to explain the reasoning behind your blatant rule violation?”

 

“Well, it doesn’t surprise me at all that your little spy has run to tell you about this,” said David coldly, “It must be pretty handy to have a mole inside the CID huh? Inside information and all that.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said José in an affronted voice, “It is the duty of the police officers to notify me when a breach of rule has occurred. But of course, I don’t really expect you lot to under the meaning of law and order.”

 

“Funny you should say that,” smirked David, “But don’t worry Mr Mayor. We’re here because we have received verbal communication that the ban on us has been lifted. The formal decision will be delivered to you in person.”

 

“Really?” said José sarcastically, “I’d be curious to know who has the authority to interfere with my work.” Despite his bravado, Marco could detect a sense of unease in José. It seemed that José was after all, afraid that things might not have gone according to his plan. David had clearly felt the same way for his expression could be described as nothing but triumphant.

 

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting for another 10 minutes, you’ll meet him in person. He’s on his way.”

 

“Whoever he is, he better be on time,” barked José, “I’m a very important person and my schedule is very full. I don’t have time to idle around all day waiting for some arrogant…”

 

“Who are you calling arrogant, José Mourinho?” A booming voice enough to match Roman’s caught everyone off-guard. Everyone turned around and saw Diego Maradona himself walking towards them.

 

Marco had never met Diego in person so it was always a bit hard for him to understand all the hype around him. But now, when he was face to face with the charismatic legend, he finally understood why everyone was fascinated about him. Diego was incredibly short, even shorter than David. His once athletic figure was now plump and chubby due to his office job. His manner wasn’t imposing by any means. If anything, he looked like an overgrown schoolboy with big smiles and cheerful demeanour. But somehow, his presence commanded attention and one simply could not underestimate him.  

 

“Silvita my dear boy!” cried Diego cheerfully as he walked straight past José to hug David. “How are you mi hijito? Kun and Benji miss you so much. Giannina sends her love. It’s so good to see you!” and he planted two wet kisses on both of David’s cheeks, which made David blush. He then turned his attention to Joe, “Ah Harty, here you are, gangling as ever. You’ve been good to Silvita I hope?”

 

“Mr Maradona,” gasped Olivier, a look of utter astonishment and admiration in his eyes, “It is such an honour to meet you in person. You’re my role model growing and I can’t imagine… My goodness! Can I shake your hands, the hand of God?”

 

Diego laughed heartily and beckoned Olivier forward. Olivier swallowed hard and bent down to shake Diego’s hands. But Diego extended his arms and hugged Olivier, “You must be Olivier the psychologist! I’ve heard a lot about you. Kun speaks very highly of you and he was very grateful for your help when he first arrived in England.”

 

“Well, I… It, it was nothing… But you know me! I can’t believe… Oh my…” stuttered Olivier, which was so uncharacteristic of him that İlkay had almost died from laughter.

 

The only one not impressed by Diego was José, whose eyes narrowed dangerously, “Excuse me, I don’t know who you are but you certainly do not have the authority to interfere with the operations in Dortmund. I am the mayor here and I alone have the right to…”

 

“Oh really?” said Diego in mock surprise and fear, “I’m so sorry I’m not aware of your power Mr Mayor. But what would I know right? I’m just a humble committee founder and advisor from INTERPOL, certainly not as powerful as you, Your Mayor Highness. But please do not be angry with me. I’d be so scared.”

 

“How dare you…” said José through gritted teeth, his face red from anger, “You have no right…” He took a deep breath to compose himself and said in a dangerously calm voice, “I’m sorry Mr Maradona. You may be a very important member of the INTERPOL. But the right to suspend and reinstate police officers belongs to the mayor of Dortmund. So I’m afraid you can’t…”

 

“I’ve never said I’m going to reinstate them,” said Diego in a casual, almost bored voice. José’s face turned puce. “But I believe Minister-President of North Rhine-Westphalia would have some say in this matter wouldn’t he? Here’s the letter,” and he tossed the letter carelessly at José, who picked it up, read it carefully, and turned an even darker shade of purple.

 

“You wait,” hissed José as he took a step closer to Diego, who had to look up due to their height difference, “You may win this time because of your connections but it won’t work every time.” José bent over even more so he was almost nose-to-nose with Diego, “You’re nothing but a drug dealer and I’ll make sure…”

 

“That’s enough,” a tall figure emerged from behind and stepped between José and Diego. He was a tall tough-looking man with a stern face. In fact, Marco thought he looked rather like a mafia boss. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed this man before. “Please don’t forget where you are and who you’re talking to, Mr Mourinho.”

 

“Aleks!” cried David and Mesut in unison and the said man gave them a rare smile. Diego patted Aleks on the back fondly and said, “This is Aleksandar Kolarov, a police officer from London police. He has volunteered to be my bodyguard while I’m in Europe.” He then turned to José and said coldly, “Mr Mourinho, I believe the information in the letter is clear. The team has been reinstated and you do not the right to suspend them without the approval of the Minister-President in the future. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

 

José threw all of them an extremely nasty look before storming out the CID. Diego grinned at them and said, “Well what are you waiting for? Get to work then.”

 

As they all got to do their worked, Woj sat next to Marco and whispered, “José’s losing it. I just know it. Do you think I should write a story about this?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I guess I didn't exactly finish Case 5 in this chapter. But I think everyone knows what the outcome is. It won't be long before all the truths are out. 
> 
> I felt obligated to give Diego a formal appearance since I've mentioned him in this fic :) And I love Aleks to bits to I've decided to give him a cameo appearance too. Somehow I felt he and Diego would be the most hilarious pair of police officers lol. For those of you who don't know Aleksandar Kolarov well, check out his Santa Claus is coming to town video and you'll understand why haha.
> 
> PS, I had a lot of fun writing the part related to Cristiano's wardrobe :-P


	35. Case 5 - Do You Believe in Accidents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team had worked out the money laundering case but it wasn't enough. José was on the move too. Another case popped up, which might change the whole game.

After José had left the CID, Benedikt’s team came to hand over their cases. Marco thought Benedikt looked exhausted and he felt bad about it.

 

“We still haven’t a clue who has killed Louis Van Gaal,” sighed Benedikt, “Whoever they are, they must be good. They’ve washed away all the evidence outside Van Gaal’s house.”

 

“What about inside the house?” asked Erik nervously, “Have you matched the footprints to anyone?”

 

“We’ve tried,” said Benedikt, “But nobody with a criminal record nor any of Van Gaal’s acquaintances match. Since we can’t find any other witnesses or anyone with a motive, we’re kind of stuck. Here’re all the case files if you want to take a closer look.”

 

“Thank you so much Benedikt,” said Marco sincerely. He felt sort of bad for dragging Benedikt into this. Benedikt simply smile tiredly and asked, “How’s, er, Mats doing?”

 

The cautiously hopeful look on Benedikt’s face made Marco feel an even stronger surge of sympathy for him. Marco of all people understood how frustrating it was to be in love with someone who was determinedly not gay, which made him appreciate Lewy even more. And speaking of Lewy, he was engaged in an animated conversation with David, Joe, and Aleks.

 

“... and Diego forced me to dress as Santa and sing Santa Claus is Coming to Town to Benji,” said Aleks with a poker face, “Unfortunately it didn’t end well.”

 

Joe was laughing so hard that they had trouble understanding what he was saying next, “The idiot read out the lyrics in such a menacing monotone that poor Benji cried at the end, thinking that Santa was some kind of serial killer sent to kidnap him. Giannina lost it completely and almost threw Diego out of the house.”

 

“Well, she certainly needs a better sense of humour,” said Diego regrettably, “Personally I think it’s brilliant and it’s a big hit on the internet. But, we have to be off. It was lovely meeting all of you. I hope I’ll see you lads in London soon, David, Joe. After you lot have left, Kun spends all his time with Zaba and Milly. Still haven’t a clue how Milly and Kun understand each other but here you go. Kun’s becoming more and more boring though just like Milly so he needs your company. Well, let you know if you need more help from me.”

 

Once Diego and Aleks had left (Olivier went to see them all the way out of the CID with a soppy dreamy smile on his face. Aleks looked like he was ready to throw up that morning’s breakfast), Kehli waved everybody together. “Okay lads, we have two cases in front of us, Van Gaal’s murder and the money laundering case. We need to divide the team. Lewy and Cristiano will obviously be working on the money laundering case. Joe and Alexis, we need your technical expertise on both so you can pick whichever one you want to focus on.”

 

“Joe and I will work on Van Gaal’s murder,” said David firmly. Olivier raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Erik shifted uneasily in his seat.

 

“Good, that leaves Alexis on the money laundering case. Everyone else, take your pick.”

 

In the end, Olivier and Mesut had decided to work on the money laundering case. Tomáš and Woj also offered their help. Erik hesitated but joined David and Joe in the end. Marco wanted to work with Lewy but he knew he could offer more value working on Van Gaal’s murder. Sensing Marco’s internal struggle, Lewy smiled at him and said, “Do whatever you need to Marco. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ll be around now that I’m working with the police. We’ll see each other.”

 

“You boyfriend is right,” sniggered İlkay, “You may even want to try it in the laboratory, you know, new places and stuff.”

 

“Sometimes I really worry about your taste İlkay,” said Erik rolling his eyes and Marco laughed.

 

“Well, I guess I’m working on the murder case then.”

 

“Have they finished the autopsy on the body?” asked İlkay seriously.

 

Kehli fought hard not to roll his eyes but failed, “I believe they’ve done the preliminary one. But of course, you will need to verify the results of the report.”

 

“Brilliant,” said İlkay cheerfully, “as long as there’s dead body, I’m all on-board. Money laundering is so uninteresting compared to…”

 

“Yes, thank you very much İlkay,” said Kehli before İlkay could elaborate any further, “But please spare us the details, we’ve had our breakfast not so long ago. Shinji will team up with you as per usual I suppose?”

 

“Absolutely,” said İlkay and Shinji in unison.

 

Once they had started working on Van Gaal’s murder, Marco realised how difficult it was. They spent the whole day reviewing the evidence but nothing other than that video clip was useful.

 

“Let’s forget about acquaintances and all that and just work under the assumption that Van Gaal was killed by a trained group of professionals,” said Marco decisively, “Our only hope is to find the police who has rescued the murderers. Maybe we should interview everyone again to double check their alibi.”

 

“Is that really going to help?” asked Erik skeptically, “I mean everyone has an alibi. Have you ever considered the possibility that the police car might be fake?”

 

“That’s a good point,” nodded Marco thoughtfully, “But I’d still like to talk to everyone, just to see their answers in person.”

 

So that was what they spent the next two days doing. By the end of it, Marco had to conclude that Erik was right. None of them seemed to be lying. Just as he was feeling frustrated, Lewy and team brought back some good news.

 

“We’ve done a thorough analysis of the companies Andrei Abramovich used to invest in,” said Cristiano excitedly, “Their account was definitely questionable. Furthermore, Alexis has managed to confirm that Van Gaal was indeed in constant contact with Andrei Abramovich using an encrypted mobile. I think we have a real case here.”

 

“Brilliant!” said Kehli, smiling happily for the first time after these days, “What about José Mourinho and Roman Abramovich?”

 

“Unfortunately, we can’t find any evidence suggesting that they were involved in the money laundering case,” sighed Lewy, “Of course, if we have the authority to investigate in Roman Abramovich, I’m sure we can find evidence. But…”

 

“But we don’t have the search warrant,” David finished the sentence for Lewy, “and I doubt we can get one at this point.”

 

“Can’t Diego help?” asked Marco but David shook his head, “Diego is not a God after all. He can only do so much. We have to find another angle, another lead. What about Ibrahimović? I know he’s almost impossible to catch but surely something can be done about that.”

 

“I’m afraid not.” Woj had just walked in with Tomáš, both looked very worried. Marco’s heart dropped. If Tomáš was that concerned, surely the news they had brought was not a good one.

 

“Why not?” asked Erik curiously.

 

“Because Zlatan Ibrahimović has left the country,” said Woj and everyone stared at him.

 

“What?” asked İlkay in disbelief, “But… Hang on, how do you know?”

 

“I have my sources,” said Woj impatiently, “And I’m not telling you who they are. I don’t want to get them in trouble. Suffice it to say that they are very reliable sources and they sounded very certain when they told me the news.”

 

“José must have told him to leave,” said Marco and Tomáš nodded. “That’s our guess too. José is extremely fast about this. In two days’ time, Zlatan and all his men have disappeared from Germany. Nobody knows exactly where they’ve gone. We have a few guesses but we don’t know for sure. Nor do we have the time to hunt them down in some far-away foreign countries. So I’m afraid we’ll have to table this lead for now.”

 

“Unfortunately that’s not the only fishy move José has made,” said Woj and Marco tensed up at once. He was disliking this conversation more and more. His hope of solving the case and catching José at it, which seemed high a couple days ago, was now waning slowly.

 

“What else has he done?” cried Olivier.

 

“Roman Abramovich’s personal financial advisor, César Azpilicueta, who does all his accounting, has arrived in Dortmund last night.”

 

“He’s here to wipe out all the evidence!” cried Mesut and Woj nodded. “I’m afraid that’s true. So we have a big problem now.”

 

“You don’t say,” snorted Olivier, “We have to do something and we have to do something quick. We’re running out of time.”

 

“Let’s phone Vinnie and Kun for help,” said Joe enthusiastically, “They’re in London and so are Roman Abramovich and most of his business. I’m sure they’ll find something. Vinnie can do anything.”

 

“I’ll also ask Diego and Aleks,” said David thoughtfully, “I know Zlatan Ibrahimović is Swedish but his father is from Albania and Zlatan can speak some Albanian. Maybe he will pick there as his temporary hideout. It’s worth a try.”

 

“Let’s do that,” said Kehli firmly, “In the meantime, I hope someone can stop this César Azpilicueta from doing too much damage.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

To everyone’s great surprise, Kehli had got what he had wished for, when the after dinner quietness of the CID was interrupted by Marcel storming into the office the next day, “We have casualty in a car crash, someone was killed.”

 

Marco frowned. It wasn’t that he was indifferent to the death of someone. It was just that traffic accidents happened every day and it wasn’t that unusual for someone to die in one. Certainly a simple car trash did not warrant such a big reaction from Marcel.

 

İlkay seemed to be thinking along the same line so he said a little impatiently, “Look Marcel, we all know you can’t handle dead people. But we have some serious shit to do so if you want a shoulder to cry on, you should try André or Roman.”

 

“No, it’s not like that!” cried Marcel indignantly, “Besides, I can handle dead people. I just don’t have a morbid fascination with them like you do. And quite frankly, nobody in their right mind will anyway.”

 

“So what’s all this commotion then?” asked Shinji curiously.

 

“I didn’t want to make a big fuss about this,” said Marcel in a slightly hurt voice, “It’s because José Mourinho demanded the head of whoever had caused the accidents. You see, the lad that got killed in the car crash was César Azpilicueta.”

 

Olivier was so shocked that he poured all of his coffee on the keyboard of Alexis’ laptop, which made a loud whining noise and then turned off resolutely. Alexis blinked and his face turned red. Fortunately, his anger seemed to render him temporarily motionless. Before Alexis could do anything, Joe and Lewy jumped up and rushed to Alexis’s side to hold him down. Olivier, getting the hint, ran away as fast as his tall frame could allow him with Alexis’s abusive shouting chasing him down.

 

Ten minutes later, everyone had finally calmed down. Mesut had managed to find Olivier and persuaded him to come back. Alexis was wincing as he had hurt his broken leg during the struggle with Joe and Lewy. Joe was touching his face gingerly. Alexis had managed to scratch his face earlier and David was attending to him. Everyone seemed to have forgotten Marcel and his news, which made him pout unhappily. Marco finally took pity on him and brought the conversation back the original topic.

 

“So José Mourinho believes that someone has killed César Azpilicueta on purpose and is angry about it?”

 

“He’s absolutely livid,” said Marcel, glad that everyone’s attention was back to him, “He kept saying that this is murder, even though I’ve told him that it looks like a traffic accident to me.”

 

“So you think it’s a traffic accident?” asked David sharply.

 

Marcel shrugged, “It doesn’t look like a murder case to me but that’s just my guess. It only just happened and we’re still collecting evidence. We probably need your help for some forensic analysis.André’s still at the crash scene. I hope he’s okay though. I feel kind of bad leaving him there by himself. He doesn’t really look like himself today.”

 

They exchanged a quick look. They all knew what each other was thinking about but no one could talk about it in front of Marcel. Finally Kehli said, “Thank you so much for letting us know Marcel. We’ll take a look at the evidence once they have arrived.”

 

Once Marcel was gone, Kehli went to lock the office door while looking around carefully. Everyone waited with bated breath until Kehli motioned to them that the coast was clear. 

 

“Do you think Mourinho has killed César Azpilicueta?” asked Olivier, sounding half excited half concerned.

 

“If he has, it must mean that César Azpilicueta had finished cleaning up the accounting for him and was of no use to him,” said Mesut and he looked slightly sick at the thought of such an act.

 

“But why would he kill Azpilicueta though?” asked Joe, “I mean he didn’t kill Zlatan and his men did he? He sent them away. So why doesn’t Mourinho just send this Azpilicueta lad back to England once he had finished his work?”

 

“It will be too hard to kill the whole group and make it look like an accident,” said Erik reasonably, “But Azpilicueta was just one person and England is not exactly safe heaven for Mourinho now that he knows you lot and Diego are chasing after him. Besides, you don’t want to annoy someone like Zlatan Ibrahimović. He’s not exactly harmless is he?”

 

“But why did Mourinho claim that it was a murder though?” asked Marco, “He didn’t have to. Marcel and his team weren’t going to treat it as a murder case. Wouldn’t this draw attention to Mourinho and Azpilicueta’s death?”

 

“He’s probably trying to make himself look innocent,” said Olivier. 

 

“Or he’s trying to frame someone else,” said Tomáš and everyone listened to him carefully, “I think we can all agree that Mourinho knows that there’s another group out there working against him. That group may have even killed Van Gaal or at least has passed critical information from Van Gaal to us. Maybe he’s trying to set them up with Azpilicueta’s death while getting rid of Azpilicueta at the same time.”

 

Marco was impressed. Tomáš’s reasoning made sense and he felt inclined to believe Tomáš. But David had some other thoughts, “But maybe Mourinho didn’t kill Azpilicueta. Maybe Azpilicueta hadn’t finished his work and that’s why Mourinho was so angry.”

 

“But how did Azpilicueta die then?” said Olivier impatiently.

 

“Tomáš has said that there’s another group working against Mourinho who may have killed Van Gaal. Suppose they are the ones who have killed Azpilicueta,” said David coolly, his eyes focused on Olivier, “Or it could just be, like Marcel said, a traffic accident.”

 

“If there’s one thing I don’t believe after all these years of working in the field, it’s accident. We need to work with the patrol team on this case,” said Kehli seriously, “This may even lead us to José Mourinho and his plans. Shinji, you’re the mechanical engineer of the team. Go with İlkay to see if there’s anything you can do to help.”

 

Shinji nodded and left with İlkay to find Marcel. Marco however, had another thought. “Since Azpilicueta was the victim a potential murder case, we can search his place and belongings, can’t we? It’s standard procedure, isn’t it? We may be able to find something interesting then.”

 

“We should and we should do that now,” piped up Olivier, “before Mourinho could get his hands on them.”

 

“Technically, we should wait until it’s been established as a murder case,” said Kehli, “But I’m sure we can bend some rules in this case. Mesut and Olivier, what are you waiting for?”

 

“One more thing,” said David, “we need to spread the news about Azpilicueta’s death. I don’t really care if it’s a real murder or not. I want those working for Mourinho to think that he has killed Azpilicueta. I want them to worry about their safety, fearing that they may be next.”

 

“Wouldn’t that scare them into hiding?” asked Erik.

 

“It might. But if we also let them know that the police is willing to work with and protect anyone with valuable information about the case, they’ll have no choice but to turn to us,” said David smugly.

 

“This is brilliant!” said Tomáš and he turned to Woj, “I’m sure you can find a way to get this out, can’t you? An article on the newspaper, some anonymous blog posts.”

 

“Absolutely,” said Woj confidently, “I’ll leak the information out to my sources too. We can even play Van Gaal’s death to our advantage. The case hasn’t been solved, has it? So who knows who the real murderer is. If Mourinho could kill Azpilicueta, who says he can’t have killed Van Gaal too and blame it on the police?”

 

“Excellent!” Kehli clapped his hands together and smiled at the team, “Go ahead and do what you need to do. I’ll go ahead and phone Shinji and İlkay. This case will be officially handled by us and nobody will release the outcome of this and Van Gaal’s case until I give permission. I’ll also brief Roman and Jürgen on our progress. They’ll be pleased. I can’t wait to bring Mourinho to justice!”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Marco headed into the CID the next morning, he bumped into André, who looked extremely pale. There was a haunted look on his face that was quite alarming.

 

“For heaven’s sake André, what’s the matter with you?” cried Marco in real concern and he took a step closer to observed André.

 

“What?” said André distractedly and he took an automatic step back. Marco felt a bit hurt. They had been friends for quite a while and he was genuinely concerned about André’s health. André seemed to regret his action and composed himself quickly. He marshalled his expression into fake nonchalance with great difficulty and managed a tired smile at Marco. 

 

“Sorry, I’m just really tired. I’ve stayed up the whole night because of that traffic accident that has killed Azpilicueta. I’m glad I can wash my hands off it though. It will be your team’s problem. Now if you don’t mind, I really need to go home to get some rest.” With that, he left Marco standing there, looking flabbergasted.

 

“A bit strange, isn’t it?” David’s voice jerked Marco out of his shocked trance. “You wouldn’t expect a patrol officer to be so affected by a traffic accident, murder or not.”

 

“I’ve never seen André like this before,” said Marco, still shocked by his friend’s behaviour, “He’s always so calm and collected. But I thought I’d just seen a ghost.”

 

“Hmm, ghost is the right work alright,” mused David, “And you know what? Woj’s articles are out. Very impressive writing. Extremely convincing with some good imagination inserted here and there. I’m not surprised to find someone feeling uneasy because of that.”

 

Marco turned to look at David full in the face. He didn’t want to believe it at all! “Are you saying that André is the…”  


“He’s a blond isn’t he?” said David meaningfully, “And he has access to the building. Would it be hard for him to get access to our office? I doubt it.”

 

“But that’s not possible,” muttered Marco, shaking his head in denial, “It’s André we’re talking about. He’s my mate. Has been for a long time. He’s a nice fella. He couldn’t have…”

 

David looked at Marco with a pitying expression, “I know it’s hard to take but think about the evidence. Don’t you remember Diego Costa?”

 

“André is the one who got Diego here in the first place,” said Marco almost automatically. He felt like he was trapped in a nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from. How could André be a cold-blooded killer who worked for Mourinho to commit all these terrible crimes? But deep down, his detective self was telling him that it all fit. “He also tipped me off about Diego’s troubled relationship with women. But how can it be true?”

 

“I’m sorry Marco,” said David sincerely, “Sometimes people are not who they appear to be. Some are good at pretending, for one reason or the other.”

 

“Is there something else going on that I don’t know about?” Marco locked his eyes with David, who for once in his life, looked away shiftily, “You know about it, don’t you?”

 

David sighed, “It wasn’t my story to tell Marco. Trust me, you’ll feel much better to hear it from the right person. Just remember that sometimes the world is not always black and white. Listen to your heart Marco, not just your head. But for now, let’s get back to work. We have tons of things left to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on to the final case! Hurray! I can't believe I'm finishing this fic up, well, with several more chapters to go.
> 
> Someone will make a surprise re-appearance in the next chapter or two. Anyone wants to guess?
> 
> Also I'm sorry but I have to pause the updates for the next two weeks. I'm going on holiday to Mexico for two weeks and I doubt I'll have the time to write anything. But once I'm back, I'll resume the updates and hopefully finish the fic before my next holiday to Hawaii in Feb :)
> 
> And a belated Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!


	36. Case 6 - Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team was trying to work out the traffic accident. It seemed that the results were not in their favour. Some were a bit impatient, while others waited patiently and would be rewarded.

When Shinji and İlkay re-imerged from their laboratory later that day, both looked exhausted. Marco however, simply couldn’t wait to ask them the results of their analysis, “What have you found? How did Azpilicueta die? Is it murder or just an accident? Can you tell who’s involved?”

 

“Hold it for a second will you?” said İlkay drowsily, stifling a yawn, “I haven’t slept for the past 24 hours and I can’t handle all those questions at once. I need my coffee.”

 

Once İlkay had finished his coffee, he finally spoke, “I don’t think it’s murder. It’s most likely just an accident.”

 

“How do you know that for sure?” asked David sharply.

 

“For one thing,” said Shinji, “we couldn’t find any sign that the car has been tempered with. The tyres are fine, so are the brakes and the steering wheel. The engine needs some maintenance work done but nothing major. If Azpilicueta drove the car under normal conditions, it certainly wouldn’t have killed him.”

 

“What about road conditions?” asked Mesut, “Maybe someone has put some nails on the road or something.”

 

“We didn’t find anything of the sort,” said İlkay, “The road is perfectly fine. The weather of course, was quite dreadful that night. But I highly doubt that Mourinho has anything to do with that.”

 

“Maybe he was chased by someone else,” said Marco excitedly, “Mourinho realised that he needed to get rid of Azpilicueta but didn’t want to be so obvious about it. So he hired someone to chase Azpilicueta. While Azpilicueta was fleeing the lad, he got into an accident and the one chasing him just drove off afterwards.”

 

“It is a possibility, but quite unlikely,” said Shinji, “We’ve measured the skid marks on the road to get the speed range of Azpilicueta’s car. He was definitely drive at a high speed, around 150 km per hour. But if he was really being chased, you would expect him to drive much faster wouldn’t you? It is a porsche 918 after all.”

 

“Moreover,” İlkay raised his voice slightly at the questioning look of Marco and the others’, “I have performed the autopsy on Azpilicueta. He was, beyond any reasonable doubt, driving under the influence when the accident happened. The alcohol content in his blood was very high, high enough to make driving practically suicide for him.”

 

This had silenced them all. If what İlkay said was true, it was most likely an accident.

 

“Maybe Mourinho had gotten Azpilicueta drunk on purpose?” asked Marco but he felt like he was clutching at straws.

 

“I’ve interviewed the bartender of the bar that Azpilicueta went to the night before he died,” said İlkay, “The bartender testified that Azpilicueta went by himself and was drinking alone. So unless you’re telling that Mourinho had managed to put an Imperius Curse on Azpilicueta, to borrow your Harry Potter rubbish, I really can’t see how Mourinho is involved in Azpilicueta’s death. For heaven’s sake, what’s wrong with these Spaniards? Do they have to have such long names?” 

 

“Well, look on the bright side,” said Olivier happily, “It means that Mourinho hasn’t got what he wants from Azpilicueta yet. That’s why he was furious that Azpilicueta’s dead.”

 

“Are we going to tell the public the truth of the case?” asked Erik but Kehli shook his head. “Not yet. I still want to see if any of Mourinho’s men will come to us with some useful information. This case is still considered murder to the public.”

 

“In the meantime,” said David, “we need to go through Azpilicueta’s belongings more carefully. If he hasn’t finished cleaning up Mourinho’s accounting for him, we may be able to find evidence from his laptop, mobile, etc.”

 

“All of his files are doubly even triply encrypted,” said Alexis frowning, “Joe and I are still going through them. I hope we can decrypt them.”

 

“But aren’t you the most brilliant computer genius?” asked Marco, “With Joe’s help, surely you can work it out.”

 

“Excuse me,” said Alexis pointedly, “this isn’t some kind of puzzle-solving we’re talking about here. For heaven’s sake, we live in the electronic age now! The encryption methods nowadays are not something you can solve with a pen and a piece of paper. The only foolproof decryption method is brute force attack. Of course you can try linear and differential cryptanalysis but it all boils down to this: We’re not NSA. We don’t have the access to a lot of information, nor do we have the resources. If the code writer is clever enough, we will have a very hard time deciphering the messages. Besides,” he shot Olivier an extremely nasty look, “Mr Pretty Boy here has ruined my laptop so I have to work with this piece of junk. It slows me down!”

 

“Partly because you’ve wasted half of your time cursing at it,” muttered Olivier. Unfortunately, Alexis’ hearing was not affected by his leg injury and he looked as if he was going to use his walking cane as a weapon against Olivier’s face.

 

“Is the code writer clever enough?” asked Mesut loudly before Alexis could send any more abuse at Oliver. Alexis nodded gravely, “Unfortunately yes. Maybe not as clever as I am but it’s always easier to write a code than to break one.”

 

“Do you think he could be the mysterious IT lad from Wallonia?” asked David sharply.

 

Alexis sighed, “I’ve thought about the same thing. I think you’re right David. I can’t say that I’m 100% certain but I do recognise his style. Every programmer has his or her own style and this one, whoever he is, has a rather distinct one. Besides, you don’t find someone good enough to match my level every day, do you?”

 

“And he thinks I’m conceited,” muttered Olivier again but Mesut put his well-trained hand on Olivier’s mouth before he could infuriate Alexis any further.

 

“We need to be patient,” said Kehli firmly and he looked at everyone encouragingly, “We’re very close to working this out. Alexis and Joe, keep working on Azpilicueta’s files. Woj, let’s talk about how we can write an update on the case for tomorrow’s newspaper. David, I want you to keep an eye on André Schürrle. Everyone else, keep working on your forensic analysis on evidence from Azpilicueta’s flat. If there’s nothing to work on, go home and get some sleep! We need you well rested and alert.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Marco and Lewy stumbled home at midnight and passed out almost immediately. When Marco woke up the next day however, Lewy had already dressed up for work. 

 

“I’m sorry Marco but I have to go to work today,” said Lewy as he adjusted his tie, “I don’t think you lads need me at the CID now and I do have a real job to attend to. I’ll be available on my mobile if you need me though.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Marco got up and kissed Lewy full on the lips, “I’m sure we can manage. Thank you so much for your help on the money laundering case though. We wouldn’t have worked it out without you.”

 

Lewy looked at Marco, who was once again amazed by the deep emotion in those stunningly blue eyes, and said, “I’ll do anything for you Marco. Moreover, I want justice as much as you do.”

 

Marco arrived at the CID to find utter chaos in the office. David and Mesut were on the phone, talking in urgent whispers. Kehli was in his office with the door shut but Marco could hear the raised voices even from the hall. Olivier was cursing in fluent French while scrolling through some documents on the computer. Tomáš was sitting next to Joe and Alexis, who looked as though they had spent the whole night in the CID. Shinji and i̇lkay were nowhere to be found, presumably in their laboratory.

 

“Ouch,” cried Marco as Woj bumped right into him, sending him falling forward. Fortunately, Woj’s reflex was quick enough and he caught Marco just in time. “Sorry Marco, didn’t see you there.”

 

“What is this all about?” Erik’s voice came behind as he stepped into the CID, equally shocked by the state the office was in.

 

“Have we missed something?” asked Marco and Woj nodded, “André Schürrle has disappeared. Nobody knows where he is now.”

 

“What?” cried Marco and Erik in unison.

 

“Yes,” said Woj distractedly, “We only found out this morning. Kehli is pulling all the strings to find out where he might have gone to. But so far, nobody knows.”

 

“He must have fled for fear of his life,” said Marco in frustration, “He’s a police officer after all. He knows what waits him if he’s ever caught. Of course he’s not going to come to us. We should’ve foreseen that.”

 

“Don’t beat yourself up about this,” said Woj seriously, “David has already done that and it took Joe a good half hour to calm him down. It’s not anyone’s fault. We just need to deal with the current situation and find out where he is.”

 

“I’ll talk to Marcel,” said Marco at once, “He’s much closer to André and he might know.”

 

“More bad news,” said Mesut, who had just finished talking on the phone. His expression could only be described as grave and Marco’s heart sank. Mesut was, though sometimes a bit shy, always cheerful, which Marco suspected had something to do with being with Olivier. But now, he looked like he was deeply troubled. “I have just talked to Kun and Vinnie. They said that people working for Roman Abramovich are disappearing. They don’t know if they are all silenced by Roman Abramovich but it seems that at least a couple of them actually went abroad. Mourinho knows we’re onto him and he’s doing all he can to get rid of any evidence of his crimes!”

 

“Aleks hasn’t had any luck either,” said David, “He was watching Ibrahimović closely. It seems that Ibrahimović has made his way to Albania. But Aleks couldn’t find him there because Ibrahimović seems to be the master in hiding. Aleks says he’ll keep trying but at this moment, we have nothing concrete against Mourinho.”

 

“We have to do something,” said Erik in a low dark voice, “Otherwise it will be too late. By the time someone comes forward, Mourinho and Abramovich might have removed all the evidence without a trace. Besides, it doesn’t seem like Abramovich is trying to kill those who’re working for him, does it? He’s trying to hide them. So how can we even expect them to come to us?”

 

“Erik is right!” said Olivier enthusiastically, “We can’t let Mourinho get away with this. If we do, he’ll walk free and advance his political career as if nothing has happened. He could be the Chancellor of Germany one day for Christ’s sake! I’m not going to let this happen!”

 

“What do you propose then?” asked Marco exasperatedly, “We have nothing to present at this moment. All we have are speculations and theories. Besides, Mourinho is a very well-connected and powerful man. If we do anything foolish, I doubt even Mats can get us out of trouble.”

 

“Marco is right,” sighed Kehli, “I’ll talk to Roman and Jürgen about this. But until I receive further instructions, nobody is going to do anything stupid, okay?”

 

So they waited. Marco had never felt that the hours could be so long and so short at the same time. On one hand, he wished that time would go faster so they might hear some good news from England, Aleks or Marcel. On the other hand, he was hoping that he had the ability to freeze time before José and Roman could any more damage to the case. They were soon joined by Shinji and İlkay, who had no luck in their laboratory either. Finally Kehli re-appeared from Roman’s office, looking thoroughly desolate. 

 

“Roman and Jürgen said that we have to wait,” said Kehli in a tired voice, “Jürgen is going to find his contact in INTERPOL to see if they can be of any help. But quite frankly, I don’t see how this may help us. Even if they…”

 

“Kehli,” said Olivier suddenly and everyone turned to look at him, “Mesut isn’t feeling well. I think he needs to go home.”  


Everyone stared at Olivier but he didn’t so much as blink under their gaze. Mesut fidgeted slightly in his seat but soon arranged his facial expressions to resemble that of someone in great pain. David seemed torn between wanting to strangle Olivier and feeling sorry for Mesut. Alexis on the other hand, almost smirked.

 

“Are you all right Mes?” asked Kehli in a concerned voice. 

 

Mesut looked as if he wanted to apologise but changed his mind at the last minute. Instead, he opened his mouth in a feeble voice, “I think I must have eaten something funny this morning. My stomach becomes really sensitive when I’m stressed out.”

 

“He always has this problem,” said Olivier firmly, “He needs to go home and get some rest. I’ll go with him if that’s okay. There isn’t much we can do at this point anyway, is there?”

 

“Well,” said Kehli, clearly very concerned about this sudden turn of event, “if that’s the best for Mesut, I can’t really argue. But you’re right. We don’t really have much to do here. I’ll phone you if I need you but I suppose you two can go home for now.”

 

“Thanks a lot Kehli!” Olivier beamed at Kehli, who sighed and said, “Take care of Mesut, will you? And Mes, do look after yourself okay?”

 

The look on Mesut’s face could only be described as guilty. But before he could say anything, Olivier had ushered him out of the CID. David had that cryptic look on his face again and Erik seemed worried too.

 

“Is there something going on we don’t know about?” asked İlkay frowning. Marco shrugged. He gave up trying to guess what was going on between the London officers. He knew he wouldn’t like the answer anyway so he’d prefer to be an ostrich for a bit longer.

 

Kehli let them all go home at 6 pm that night. When Marco got home however, he found the flat empty. Frowning, he picked up his mobile and phoned Lewy.

 

“Hi Marco babe, I’m just about to phone you,” Lewy’s voice came out muffled and hushed. Marco wondered if he was at work and couldn’t really talk on the phone.

 

“Sorry to bother you now,” said Marco quickly, not wanting to get Lewy into trouble, “If you’re at work, I can…”

 

“It’s okay,” said Lewy, “I’m stuck at work but it’s fine. Don’t apologise for phoning me. Nothing makes me happier than hearing your voice after a long day of work.”

 

Marco coughed and blushed ever so lightly. Lewy’s sweetness always caught him by surprise and if he was honest with himself, he loved it. “Well, thanks. I’ll make sure I phone you more often then. But you said that you were about to phone me?”

 

“Oh yes. Well, I just want to let you know that I may not be able to come home tonight. We have a very important project and I probably have to stay up all night to work on it. I am a bit behind after all.”

 

“Sorry about that,” said Marco automatically, “It’s all our fault. We dragged you away from your work.”

 

“And I loved every minute of it, working with you,” said Lewy and Marco couldn’t help but smile, “So don’t say sorry. But anyway, I’ve got to go. I hope I can finish my work sometime tonight so I can at least go home and see you. Don’t stay up for me though babe. You definitely need some good rest, okay?”

 

“Okay, okay,” Marco said half laughing half serious, “I’m not a kid you know?”  


“Oh yeah I should know that,” said Lewy in a suggestive tone and Marco almost blushed again. 

 

“Don’t be so smart mister. Now shut up and go back to work.” 

 

“Will do. Love you babe.”

 

“Love you too! Bye.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

So Marco spent the night watching “Gute Zeiten, Schlechte Zeiten”. He felt that he needed a bit of a break and this soap opera seemed like the perfect choice. At 11 pm however, he dutifully turned off the television and went to bed like Lewy had told him to.

 

His sleep however, did not last long. When his mobile rang, Marco stayed in bed with his eyes resolutely closed, wondering if he was ever going to get a good night sleep when there was a case going on. But he still picked up the call, which was from David.

 

“Marco there has been a new development in the case. We need you in the office right now. What do you mean he’s not picking up?” David seemed to be yelling at someone at the other end of the line. “Don’t tell me he’s turned off his mobile! This senseless, gormless, absolute git!” The rare cursing and the urgency in David’s tone almost made Marco drop his phone.

 

“Is everything okay David?”

 

“No,” spat David, “the hell’s on fire and Olivier has finally decided to move to Mars! Good riddance if you ask me!” He took a deep breath to steady himself and said, “Look, I don’t have time to explain on the phone. But I have just received a very important piece of information. It seemed that our strategy has worked after all. Someone has come forward with potentially useful information on Mourinho.”

 

Marco perked up at once. “Brilliant David! I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

 

“Excellent!” said David. He sounded a bit hesitant before he asked the next question, which Marco found a bit strange, “Is Lewy coming with you?”

 

Marco frowned, “No, he’s off the case, isn’t he? Why, do we need him?”

 

David paused for a second before saying, “Well, we don’t know at this point. My source only told me that someone has some useful information. He didn’t exactly tell me what it is.”

 

“Well, Lewy is not home. He’s working tonight so I doubt we can get his help,” said Marco apologetically, “If we need anything from him, I can always check with him tomorrow, can’t I? I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

 

“Ah I see,” said David, almost too meaningfully for Marco’s liking, “Yeah, I’m sure it can wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry it took me a bit long to update this (and this chapter is a bit short). I've had a fantastic trip, very adventurous and extremely fun. I would highly recommend Mexico to anyone who likes history and the nature. But towards the end of my trip, I had caught some sort of stomach bug so I've spent most of my time recovering since I've returned home. I also needed to get back into the momentum (and to read my previous chapters again to make sure I didn't miss anything when I was writing :). Hence the late update.
> 
> But things should be back to normal now. Here's another chapter. I hope you enjoy it. The next chapter should be a lot more interesting. Anyone wants to guess who's coming forward with information and who's bring him to the team?


	37. Case 6 - A Man Without Fear Cannot be a Slave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team had finally gathered enough information to pay Mourinho a visit, thanks to a certain someone. Roman and Kehli also met some old friends, whether they like it or not. Marco had finally discovered the truth.

When Marco showed up, he found that almost everyone was in the CID, except Mesut and Olivier. Even Roman was in the office, talking in hushed voices with Tomáš. Cristiano looked, for the first time in his life, not so impeccable. In fact, his hair looked floppy without all the hair gel and he was yawning almost non-stop. Joe was still on the phone and David was fuming next to him, “How can he not pick up? He must have left his mobile at home. Try Mesut’s mobile now.”

 

“David, maybe we should let them rest,” said Kehli tentatively, “Mesut isn’t feeling well after all. Why don’t you fill us in on what has actually happened?”

 

David took a deep breath and said, “Fine. I have received a phone call from…”

 

But David was interrupted by a loud cheerful voice, “Hola mis amigos!” followed by the most atrocious German accent ever known to mankind, “Have you lads missed me?”

 

The new arrival was a strapping young man with long light brown hair parted casually in the middle. Judging by the sleekness of the hair, he must have used quite a lot of hair products. He was quite tall and had enough tattoos to match Olivier’s. It was rather hard to say if he was handsome or not. But nobody could deny his charm, which was created by his exuberant personality as much as his full lips and big bright eyes. Roman and Kehli however, looked as if they had seen a ghost.

 

“Sergio Ramos!” gasped Roman, “You’re still alive!”

 

The said young man turned to give Roman an absolutely radiant smile. “Of course I’m alive! How could I not be?”

 

“Well,” muttered Roman despondently, “so much for voodoo.”

 

Sergio didn’t seem to hear him. Instead, he chirped happily, “I’ve missed you so much, Roman my dear friend!” He then made his way to Roman in the same happy manner and slipped right in front of Roman, knocking a cup of hot coffee right into Roman’s groin.

 

“Mother…” Roman’s cry of pain was soon muffled by Sergio’s loud apologies, Kehli’s attempt to rescue him from Sergio, and İlkay’s howl of laughter.

 

“Who the hell is this?” asked Erik, looking absolutely flabbergasted. 

 

“This, my young Erik,” said Marco in a sombre voice that would be appropriate even at Roman’s funeral, “is Sergio Ramos. Stay away from him if you value your life and your face. Only approach him in dire situations, like when your hair products run out.”

 

“But…”

 

“I’m so sorry everyone!” another voice interrupted Erik’s questions. They soon found another handsome young man walking quickly towards the source of the commotion. He was about the same height as Sergio, but several years old and a lot wiser. His short hair, broad shoulders, and poised demeanour all made him seem a lot more dependable. 

 

“Iker!” cried Shinji and he went ahead to hug Iker. İlkay had finally stopped laughing. Marco was happy to see Iker Casillas too. Everybody liked Iker, although Marco had thought secretly that Iker’s popularity was largely thanks to Sergio and the disasters he tended to cause wherever he went.

 

“How are you Iker? How’s everything going in Madrid?” asked Marco happily. 

 

Iker grimaced and said, “Everything is fine. Well, as fine as it can be with Sergio around. Look, I’d love to catch up with you all a bit more. But I have to rescue Sergio before Roman strangles him.”

 

Sure enough, Roman was lurching towards Sergio. Although his effort was thwarted by both Kehli and Joe who were trying desperately to hold Roman back, Roman didn’t seem to want to give up. Sergio, on the other hand, looked genuinely sorry and confused.

 

“I’m sooo sorry Roman! It was an accident I swear! I didn’t mean to pour coffee on you, especially in that area!”

 

“Lucky Roman’s already had children,” smirked İlkay, his eyes glinting maliciously, “You better apologise to Lisa if there’s any permanent damage down there.”

 

Marco felt bad for Roman. He had long been convinced that if Roman did one day die an unfortunate premature death due to a stroke or heart attack, İlkay and Sergio would almost be solely responsible. Well, now with Olivier around, Marco felt that Roman’s life expectancy had decreased dramatically.

 

During all the mayhem, nobody except David seemed to have noticed a third young man who had arrived with Iker. He was much shorter and smaller than Iker and Sergio, which made it quite easy for him to hide under Iker’s shadow. He had a young boyish face, with big Bambi eyes and soft curly hair. In fact, he looked like a young child trailing behind his parents on his way to the principal’s office.

 

“Iker, is this?” asked David delicately. Before Iker could answer though, İlkay interrupted them, “David you know Iker?”

 

“We used to work on a case together,” said Iker smiling, “Besides, I’m also a friend of David Vi…” 

 

“I know Iker as well!” interrupted Joe quickly, “I was on that case too. Good times huh Iker?” 

Iker nodded and gave David an almost apologetic smile, “There has been a lot of cooperation between the Madrid and the London police. Sergio has known Mesut for quite a long time too.”

 

“Where’s my dear Mesut?” asked Sergio while looking around searching for Mesut, “I’ve been wanting to see him for a very long time! And Olivier! I can’t wait to tell Olivier this new hair gel I’ve discovered. It works wonders on…”

 

“Mesut is not feeling well,” said David before Sergio could give everyone a lecture on his new favourite hair gel, which was a pity because Marco was actually quite interested in that. He made a mental note to ask Sergio about it later. But David had more pressing matters in his mind, “Enough of these pleasantries. We have a big case to work on everyone. Now,” he turned to Iker and his tone was all business-like, “Is this young man your source?”

 

“Ah,” said Iker and he literally dragged the young man out of his shadow, “yes. This is Cesc Fàbregas everyone, a friend and coworker of César Azpilicueta.”

 

“Good god,” cried İlkay, “Abramovich is using child labour now?”

 

“I’m not a child!” said the young man Cesc indignantly. Unfortunately, his puffed up cheeks and round eyes didn’t nothing to convince them of his statement.

 

“No, you’re not a child,” muttered Sergio, looking uncharacteristically grumpy, “You just act like one.”

 

“Sergio,” said Iker half laughing half exasperated, “leave Cesc alone. Anyway, I thought you lads want to know the information Cesc has.”

 

“Of course,” said David at once, “Please Mr Fàbregas, feel free to tell us anything you would like us to know. Nothing you’re going to say will be used against you.”

 

Cesc’s lip wobbled slightly and he looked instinctively at Iker. Sergio made a small humphing noise. Roman looked incredibly pleased at Sergio’s annoyance. Iker however, nodded encouragingly at Cesc, who seemed to take courage from this and said slowly, “I’ve worked for Roman Abramovich’s company for quite a while now. And I,” he looked up suddenly at David and said, “Can you promise me that I won’t get into trouble for this? I mean he has already killed César. I’m not worried about myself but I do have a family and he knows where they are.”

 

“Don’t worry,” said David in a soothing voice, “We will provide top-level protection for you and your family. Whatever you’re telling us, it will stay in this room until we are sure that Mourinho and Abramovich will no longer be a threat to you and your family.”

 

Cesc hesitated, and then asked in an even smaller voice, “Will it get me in jail?”

 

Kehli stepped up and put a hand on Cesc’s shoulder in a fatherly manner, “It’s okay kiddo. We’ve all done something wrong in the past. You coming forward with valuable information will help you a long way.”

 

“Okay,” Cesc swallowed hard and said, “I am Roman Abramovich’s personal assistant.”

 

“Holy cricket,” murmurred İlkay, “We’ve hit a jackpot.”

 

“How long have you been working for him?” asked David, still in that calm and almost coaxing tone.

 

“For more than three years now,” said Cesc, still looking uncomfortable, “I don’t really know why he has picked me but Mr Abramovich has always trusted me. Most of the times it’s just managing his schedule and emails. But if he needs an important message delivered to Mr Mourinho, he sends me to Dortmund.”

 

“Why?” Marco couldn’t help but ask. It seemed like a lot of effort.

 

Cesc shrugged, “I never ask him why. But I suppose it’s because he didn’t want the message to be intercepted. There’s always a risk, whether you choose email, text message or even phone calls. So he usually sends me.”

 

“Wouldn’t that be a bit suspicious too?” asked Joe reasonably, “I mean, you work for him not Mourinho. What’s your excuse for visiting Dortmund?”

 

“Hang on,” said Erik slowly, “Don’t tell me you’re related to Carlota Fàbregas!”

 

“The witness we have interviewed in the case of Gabriela Costa’s murder?” asked Kehli sharply.

 

Cesc looked both pained and ashamed, “It’s all my fault. Carlota knows nothing. But when Mourinho told me that he could find a job for Carlota in Dortmund, I was naive enough to believe that he was trying to help. So I persuaded Carlota to take up on the offer, thus putting my own sister in potential danger. But all of my trips to Dortmund were in the name of visiting her. She’s my only sister and we’ve been extremely close since we were children. So nobody has suspected anything. When I got too deep and didn’t want any of it, I tried to quit. I had promised Mourinho that I would be as silent as the grave but he still wouldn’t let me. He threatened to hurt Carlota. I had to give in. I would never ever put my baby sister in danger. I can never forgive myself for dragging her into this in the first place.”

 

“We understand completely,” said Roman, sounding uncharacteristically calm and understanding. Marco felt a moment of guilt for driving Roman up the wall all the time, now that he knew Roman was capable of such peaceful demeanour. “Your concern for your sister is completely understandable and your determination to protect her very admirable. We will make sure she’s safe from any possible revenge from Mourinho or Abramovich.”

 

“You have to,” said Cesc pleadingly, “I have no other choice. Ever since I’ve heard of César’s death, I know it will be my turn soon. Mourinho is trying to get rid of anyone who knows anything about his sordid business. César was the one managing all his and Mr Abramovich’s accounting so he was the first to go. But I know too much and I know Mourinho will kill me too. I’m not afraid of dying. Maybe I deserve it for not letting people know Mourinho’s true colour earlier. I could have prevented so many tragedies but I didn’t. I think the only reason why Mourinho hasn’t killed me yet is because I was on holiday in Barcelona. But my fate doesn’t matter now. I just can’t let anything happen to my sister. She’s done absolutely nothing! She knows absolutely nothing! So I went to Iker, because he’s the only one I know who can help me and I trust him. He has convinced me to come to Dortmund to find you. He said that you can help me.”

 

Marco exchanged a quick look with David. He knew he probably shouldn’t tell Cesc that Azpilicueta’s death was an accident and he wasn’t actually killed by Mourinho but it hurt to see Cesc suffer so from his inner torment.

 

“We will help you!” said Shinji, surprising almost everyone for he so rarely expressed his opinions outside his laboratory. But Shinji seemed to take an instant liking to Cesc and he said reassuringly, “With your information, we can finally catch Mourinho at it. We will bring him to justice and your sister will be safe.”

 

“Shinji’s right,” said Iker quietly, “As long as you give them the information you know, Mourinho will be doomed. And trust me, Shinji doesn’t make promises easily so you can definitely trust him when he does.”

 

Cesc seemed to take comfort in their kind words. He took a deep breath and said, “Fine. I will tell you everything I know. Some of it I know from César. He had sent me copies of some of the documents he had worked on, as a safety precaution. Unfortunately it didn’t help him in the end.”

 

“Accounting documents?” asked Erik quickly, sitting up even straighter.

 

“Yes, he photocopied information of various accounts of the Abramovich family, all under different names. A lot of the money in those accounts is profit from Andrei Abramovich’s contracting company’s illegal business like human trafficking and drug dealing. Van Gaal was the main finance advisor for the Abramovich family and he had managed to launder the money for them. The majority of them went back to Andrei Abramovich, but a significant amount went to Mr Abramovich, which he has used to support Mourinho.”

 

Marco and the team exchanged looks. Finally they had concrete proof that Roman Abramovich was involved in the money laundering. But it wasn’t enough it they wanted to bring down José. 

 

“What about Van Gaal’s death?” asked Roman, “Is Mourinho involved in this in anyway?”

 

Cesc frowned, “I don’t know if you can call his planning involvement. Mourinho did want Van Gaal dead so he can both get rid of Van Gaal and discredit the Dortmund police. The latter has been his goal all along. He wants to remove you lot from this department so he can place his men here, like André Schürrle.”

 

“So we were right. André Schürrle really is the mole within the CID,” said David quietly, “He’s the mysterious blond.”

 

“The what?” asked Cesc in bewilderment.

 

“Löw left us a code in his suicide note,” said Joe as he air quoted the last two words, “Marco solved it and it basically said that the murder is blond. We have suspected that André Schürrle might be the one since then.”

 

“Yes, he has been working for Mourinho for quite a while now. Nobody outside really knows about their connection. From what I’ve gathered, I think Schürrle owes Mourinho a big favour in the past. That’s why most of Mourinho’s men are so loyal to him. He has helped them in some way before. So André has befriended Van Gaal under Mourinho’s instructions. I think Mourinho just wanted to keep an eye on Van Gaal at first and get him out of trouble if needed. But later he had changed his mind and had decided that Van Gaal was more of a liability than an asset, especially after Thomas Müller had started his project.”

 

“So it really was André who killed Löw that night,” said Kehli still in disbelief.

 

“Mourinho knows people and their weaknesses more than anyone else I know,” said Cesc sadly, “And he doesn’t have any moral qualms about using them to his advantage. He knew Van Gaal would panic when he didn’t get Van Gaal out of trouble and he knew Van Gaal was the type of person to use extreme measures in dire circumstances. So he didn’t bother to get Van Gaal out of Dortmund. On the contrary, he told André to bring up crimes and how to avoid police detection in casual conversation with Van Gaal. Just like he had predicted, Van Gaal bit the bait and went ahead to kill Müller. He had thought that Van Gaal would be caught and you would bring Van Gaal to the CID. He then planned to ask André to kill Van Gaal to discredit you lot. What Mourinho didn’t expect was how smart Van Gaal was and how he had managed to make it look like a murder committed by Löw. Once you had taken Löw into custody, Mourinho went along with it and asked André to force Löw to kill himself instead. Löw did it because he was under the threat that Mourinho would hurt his family if he didn’t comply.”

 

“Bloody hell,” cried İlkay softly.

 

“Who’s the IT lad that hacked into CID’s system that night to help André?” Alexis was apparently very interested in the identity of this secret hacker.

 

“His name is Eden Hazard and he works for Mr Abramovich. I don’t really know him well though because he’s kind of a loner. But from what I’ve heard, he’s an absolute genius and quite likes the challenge. So I don’t know if he even knows what kind of impact his work has on other people. I bet he just thought he was solving a really challenging problem.”

 

“Is he from Belgium?” asked Woj.

 

Cesc nodded, “He came from Wallonia but went to Cambridge for university. He decided to stay in England to work for Mr Abramovich after he had graduated.”

 

“So Mourinho is involved in Gabriela Costa’s death too?” asked David even though it sounded more like a statement than a question.

 

“I think so,” said Cesc slowly, thinking hard, “Honestly I don’t know much about it. This was done pretty much by Mourinho and his men alone. Mr Abramovich wasn’t really involved. But Mourinho did ask for Eden’s help. Again, I don’t know the details. I just know that he had managed to discredit Pep Guardiola through this so he could ensure his re-election as mayor. I think somehow Zlatan Ibrahimović helped but I can’t be 100% sure.”

 

“Fair enough,” said David, “Back to the part you do know, Van Gaal’s death.”

 

“Ah yes. His death is yet another proof of Mourinho’s manipulative power.” Cesc almost shuddered.

 

“What do you mean?” Marco felt like he knew the answer already but asked the question anyway.

 

“Mourinho has long suspected that there’s another group working against him. I personally think they’re really cool, almost like the modern-day James Bond. But Mourinho hates them and he believes that they were responsible for Andrei Abramovich’s death.”

 

“At least he’s not blaming Irina,” muttered Cristiano, who seemed to have finally woken up from his stupor.

 

“Mourinho knows that Irina could not be involved. But he was furious that the police couldn’t catch the real killer. He also feared that Andrei Abramovich’s death was just the beginning and he would be next. So he was absolutely determined to find out who belonged to that secret group. He obviously doesn’t want to risk himself but Van Gaal was disposable. So he leaked out the news that he would get Van Gaal transferred to another city, which forced them to act. It had also confirmed his suspicion that someone from the police is working with them, or even part of the group. The police car just gave him the perfect excuse to get you all suspended, which he wasn’t able to do with Löw’s death and Diego Costa’s serial killing.”

 

“It was André again wasn’t it?” asked Marco in a low pained voice, “He got Diego Costa transferred to Dortmund.”

 

“Technically, André didn’t break any rules,” said Cesc, “That’s the brilliant part of the whole scheme. Mourinho somehow got wind of Diego Costa’s involvement in the murder case in Leverkusen. He knew that Costa was trying to get away from Leverkusen because he feared that he might be caught. So he asked André to post a hiring advertisement on the internal forum of Leverkusen police. Of course Diego Costa took up the opportunity.”

 

“Blimey,” said Kehli almost in awe, “Mourinho had been planning this for a long time and I have to say he’s bloody brilliant at it.”

 

“Do you have anything to back up what you’ve told us,” asked Tomáš, “apart from those financial documents?”

 

Cesc shook his head sadly, “Mourinho trusted very few people and he had made sure that he left almost no trace behind. I’m never really involved in any of his scheming so I don’t really know. I only pass verbal messages between him and Mr Abramovich. Some of the information I’ve told you is actually second-hand information I got from others. So you better check their validity. If you can find Schürrle or Ibrahimović, I think you should be able to find out a lot more.”

 

“Unfortunately both of them are MIA at this point,” said David seriously, “But the good news for you is, since you’re only passing the information, you are unlikely to get into any serious trouble, especially since you’ve come to us.”

 

“Really?” cried Cesc in happy disbelief, “And my sister?” 

 

“Will be protected by our best men,” said Roman firmly, “But now that we have Cesc’s information, it’s time for us to pay our dear mayor a visit.”

 

“Now?” blurted out Woj, Erik, and Cesc in unison.

 

“Of course now! What are you waiting for?” said İlkay impatiently. 

 

David gave Woj and Erik a knowing look before he turned to Cesc and said kindly, “Don’t worry Mr Fàbregas, you will be perfectly safe here. Iker will stay behind to protect you.”

 

Sergio jumped up from his seat and raised his hand to add hastily, “I’ll stay too. I’m sure Cesc can use some extra protection, can’t he?”

 

Iker shook his head almost in amusement, “Honestly nene, it’s fine.”

 

Sergio simply shrugged and muttered, “You alone with the little Culé? Fat chance.”

 

Before Iker could raise any more objections, Roman interjected swiftly, “Sergio has a good point. The safety of Mr Fàbregas is a very serious matter. Sergio will stay in the CID too.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

By the time they had arrived at José Mourinho’s house, it was close to daybreak. The neighbourhood was eerily quiet. Mourinho’s house was surprisingly modest, considering his power and position. To everyone’s surprise, the front door was not locked. They exchanged a quick look. Maybe they were not alone after all.

 

As they made their way stealthily upstairs, they thought they could hear very faint noises from one of the rooms. Kehli motioned silently to the team, who moved quickly to cover every room on the second floor. Marco was outside Mourinho’s study with David and Kehli. He could now be certain that the noise was from the study and unless he was very much mistaken, there was a conversation going on inside. Marco wondered if Mourinho might be on the phone with Roman Abramovich.

 

Kehli raised his hand and on the count of three, they bursted into the study. Marco was not prepared to witness the scene in front of him though. There Mourinho was, kneeling in front of two hooded men in masks. The shorter one was pointing a gun directly at Mourinho’s head. The taller one was apparently talking to Mourinho, as he stopped mid-sentence at the sudden intrusion. Almost automatically, Marco pointed his gun at the shorter man, who froze, but did not move one muscle.

 

“Dortmund police!” bellowed Marco, “Put your gun down, NOW!”

 

The shorter man slowly lowered his hand and dropped his gun to the floor. Surprised by this willing cooperation, Marco stepped slowly closer to him and said, “Now, put your hands above your head and turn to face me.”

 

At that very moment, the taller man suddenly turned and sprinted towards the window. Marco quickly pointed his gun at the taller man and fired instinctively. Right before he pulled the trigger though, he felt a strong force slamming into him, knocking him to the ground. Gasping, Marco saw it was David who was now on top of him, panting heavily. His mind completely on the two masked men, Marco didn’t even have time to think about David’s strange behaviour, as he struggled to get up. When he did, the taller man had already disappeared from the window and the shorter one was about to leave too. Marco put his gun up once more. From the corner of his eyes, he could see that David was getting up as well, ready to stop him once again. But David the intervention was not needed this time. Just as Marco was about to fire once more, the shorter man turned to look at Marco, who found himself staring into a pair of piercingly blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! I've finally got to this point lol.
> 
> I hope you like Iker and Sergio's re-appearance and the introduction of Cesc. I was wondering if anyone still remembers Carlota but I sort of put her in the story as a hint for later plot development :)
> 
> I'm also hoping that the different cases are all linked together now. When I started writing this fic, I have always wanted it to have an underlying plot, rather than just being independent cases. Not sure if I've done that right but at least I've tried :)


	38. Case 6 - Justice Comes with a Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco was devastated. The others tried to help. Someone showed up to explain everything.

Even when he looked back in later years, Marco found that he couldn’t exactly remember what had happened after that fateful moment. Everything seemed to be in a blur. He got back to the office yet he didn’t know when and how. He could feel vaguely the concerned looks David and Erik kept shooting him, but he could neither think nor care. His eyes were open but he could see nothing. His voice was working but he could say nothing. His ears were listening but he could hear nothing. He just sat there with the others, not because he wanted to, but because it was such a habit of his that he didn’t have the energy to fight it. But every time he closed his eyes, all he could see were that pair of beautiful blue eyes, deep as ocean yet bright as sky, always full of unsaid emotions, the eyes he had learnt to admire and love so much, his Lewy’s eyes.

 

“Marco, Marco!” David was literally shouting and shaking him, which had finally brought Marco out of his personal hell, “I know this probably comes as a shock to you. But please don't jump into conclusions. You know Lewy! You know what kind of man he is.”

 

“David’s right,” said Erik, “Lewy’s a good man. He's helped us loads and he really loves you. Just give him a chance, or at least let him explain himself. Oh for heaven’s sake Marco, please say something!”

 

Marco simply looked at them straight in the eye, until both looked away guiltily. “How long have you known? About Lewy, Olivier and Neven?”

 

At the surprised look on their faces, Marco laughed bitterly, “I might be blinded by love and friendship but I'm not stupid. Lewy and Olivier were at the Mourinho’s house earlier tonight! And let me guess, Héctor was the decoy in Andrei Abramovich’s murder, isn't it? Tomáš is the brain behind it because he's that good. Is Woj involved too? Alexis didn't really break his leg rock climbing did he? He was shot by Zlatan Ibrahimovich wasn't he? He’s also the hacker for them. No wonder we can never solve those cases! Not when my friends and colleagues, the ones I trust, feed me rubbish to get their accomplices out of trouble. Yet you know about it! You’ve known all along and you’ve never said a thing!”

 

“I'm so sorry Marco!” cried Erik and he seemed to be on the verge of tears now, “I only knew about it since Van Gaal’s death. I got suspicious and confronted Neven, who confirmed my suspicions. But he refused to tell me more because they've all sworn to secrecy when the joined the group. I was able to work out the rest slowly by myself though. I swear I wasn't trying to keep it from you. I just, I didn't know how you'd take it, especially about Neven and Lewy! I thought that if I keep quiet, maybe you wouldn't know. That way you won't get hurt so much.”

 

“I started to suspect Olivier a bit earlier than that,” said David quietly, “At first it was just a thought and I didn't even think Lewy would be part of the group. I’ve never really talked to anyone about it, not even Joe. But Joe can usually read my mind so he chose not to say anything about it either. We're not trying to keep you in the dark Marco. But it wasn't our story to tell and even we don't know everything. If you're to know it, it should be from Lewy or Neven and it should be the complete truth.”

 

“But you're on their side?” asked Marco, “You think they're doing the right thing? That's why you stopped me David.”

 

“I stopped you because I can't let you do something that you'll regret later,” said David simply, “As for the things they've done and the methods they've used, I don't really agree with them. You've seen how many times I've butted heads with Olivier. But I do trust that they're doing them because they believe in the same justice that we believe in.”

 

“I couldn't understand it at first but when Neven explained it to me, I've decided to trust him,” said Erik and the blazing look in his green eyes was so bright that it lit up his entire face, “He told me that they have to work undercover because not every case can be solved due to lack of evidence or the power and connection of the culprit. Look at the O. J. Simpson murder case! But sometimes you have to take a stand and you cannot let those bastards walk free to hurt others. They're risking their lives and their reputation to help make this world a better place! And they don't get recognised. They won't, ever. Instead, they have to live a double life. Do you know how many of them have had their families torn apart, or even killed when their identities were compromised? I respect their sacrifices. I'm not afraid and I'm not ashamed. I am proud of my love and I'll support him in whatever he does!”

 

Once again, Marco understood why Neven would fall so madly in love with Erik and why they were perfect for each other. Despite his young age, Erik had demonstrated his maturity, his courage, his determination, and his fierce love for Neven, a love free of any burden, a love so strong and pure that it could destroy any obstacles on its way. Neven always knew what he wanted and Erik would help him achieve it no matter how crazy it might appear to be.

 

David seemed to be lost deep in his thoughts too. When Marco nudged him, he jerked awake and smiled sadly at them, “Neven’s a lucky chap to have you. If only I were…”

 

“David?” asked Erik tentatively.

 

“I was once in a similar situation,” said David, his eyes looking through them to some distant past, “I was in love with a coworker and I think he belongs to that group too. He kept it from me though but I couldn't help but notice his strange behaviours. It put a strain on our relationship and we finally separated. I guess he's one of those who had his family torn apart. I sometimes wished I was braver and more trusting. Then it might have worked out between us.” He turned to look at Marco and said very seriously, “Don't make my mistake again Marco. Don't let this ruin your life.”

 

“But you've moved on,” said Marco, “You have Joe now. You're happy with Joe!”

 

“Yes,” smiled David fondly, his tone much lighter and happier now, “I don't know how I'd cope if Joe wasn't around back then. Maybe it’s all for the best because Joe is right for me. I'm not the happy carefree type, nor is my ex-boyfriend. I'm a compulsive perfectionist who worry too much and he's a gloomy pessimist who always has a bitchface on,” David smiled reminiscently, “And we're both stubborn as hell. So you can probably imagine that the relationship wasn't exactly a joyous one, despite our deep love for each other. We both need someone lighter and freer to make us happy. I have Joe now, who's basically my sunshine and the light of my life. From what I've heard, he's also moved on with a nice caring girl. But you're different Marco. You’re the light yourself. As long as you can overcome this, you and Lewy will be happy together because you're right for each other. You just need to listen to your heart.”

 

Marco was silent. He didn't know what to think now. Part of him, a very large part actually, wanted desperately to believe Lewy. But the other part of him, a part closer to his older self, was hurt by what he considered a double betrayal from Lewy and Neven, not to mention deeply troubled by what they had done. No matter how noble their cause may sound, it still conflicted with his beliefs.

 

“I don't want to change myself for someone,” said Marco slowly while still organising his thoughts, “I have things that I believe in and I don't want to change that because I'm in love with someone. I fear that if I do, I wouldn't be who I am.”

 

“It's not changing your beliefs,” an old and wise voice interrupted their discussion. Everyone turned to look at the new arrival, a slender old gentleman in his tailored suit. He must be in his late 60s. Age, rather than taking away his handsomeness, increased his charm and wisdom ten-fold. In fact, he reminded Marco of a perfectly-aged wine, or an old and intellectual scholar with fine taste. “It's opening your mind, my dear boy.”

 

“Mr Wenger!” cried Roman, who hurried forward to great the old gentleman.

 

“It's such a pleasure to see you again, Roman,” smiled Wenger, “how's Lisa?”

 

“What?” stammered Roman as he gasped with pleasure, “You remember my wife’s name!”

 

“Of course I do,” said Wenger pleasantly, “But where are my manners? Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Arsène Wenger, Secretary General of INTERPOL.” He paused, allowing them time to digest this new piece of information, before continuing, “I have another title that is known to few, which is the director of INTERPOL Special Operations Department, a department founded by my predecessors since the end of World War II.”

 

“So Olivier and the others,” said David with his mouth almost wide open, “belong to INTERPOL?”

 

“They certainly do,” Jürgen’s voice surprised them even further. Marco almost jumped when he saw Olivier, Mesut, Neven, Héctor, and Lewy walking into the room behind Jürgen. His eyes locked with Lewy’s momentarily but Marco forced himself to look away. He wasn’t ready to face Lewy just yet. Erik on the other hand, beamed at Neven, who smiled back fondly.

 

“Hang on,” said İlkay, finally catching on, “are you telling me that they are the group that is involved in all those cases?”

 

Jürgen looked at Arsène, who nodded and started explaining, “Ever since the end of the second World War, INTERPOL had recognised the need for a special operation force group to carry out work that cannot be done by its regular serving members.  So, after much debate and negotiation, INTERPOL had finally passed the bill to found a department dedicated to justice in a slightly different way. Now because they have to work undercover, most of the members in the department are not serving officers. They all have a normal job but they have gone through a vigorous selection process and even more intense training. All of them have sworn an oath, to protect the general public, to uphold justice, and to maintain absolute secrecy of their services. Most members within INTERPOL knows nothing of their existence. Only the Secretary General, the President, and the director of the Special Advisory Committee, in this case, Diego Maradona, are involved in the operations of the department. It is my duty as Secretary General to work with my team to combat any crime that cannot be punished by regular legal means.”

 

“But Jürgen knows about this?” asked Kehli, who seemed rather shell-shocked to hear all the information.

 

“Yes,” said Jürgen, “It is necessary for the department to have someone within the police department to work with. Imagine what would happen if there isn’t one. The agents could be killed by accident by the police officers.”

 

“Exactly,” said Arsène seriously, “Besides, it is often necessary to move our agents around depending on where we need them. Jürgen is one of our two contacts in Germany; the other one is naturally in Munich. We have worked with him many times if we need to make some international transfers.”

 

“Hang on,” said İlkay slowly, still trying to catch up on what had been going on, “Is Iker part of this department as well? Is that why you transferred him and Sergio to Dortmund a while back?”

 

Iker smiled and nodded, “Yes, I have been working for the department for quite a while now. Sergio isn’t one of us but he understands and supports my decisions fully.” Sergio looked at Iker with such a radiant smile that Iker couldn’t help but smile back and put his arms around Sergio’s shoulder. Marco could tell Lewy was watching him but he was still resolutely not looking at him. In fact, seeing the interaction between Sergio and Iker made a part of him ache so much that he could barely stand it.

 

Arsène looked at Sergio in a rather fatherly way, “We generally do not allow our members to disclose their association with the department to their significant others until they are in a very stable, committed relation. We also advise caution to our members because not everyone can accept such a life. So a lot of our members choose to live a, shall we say, closeted life, hiding their true identity from their partners. But some are lucky enough to have partners who love and trust them enough to accept them for who they are. I think we have quite a few lucky chaps here.”

 

Iker, Olivier, and Neven all smiled proudly at their lovers. Luckily, Shinji interrupted this moment by asking the question everyone was wondering, “Okay, can somebody please tell us exactly who are in this group and what they do?”

 

Arsène nodded at Tomáš, who stepped forward and said, “I am the head of this group within the department, codename _the Mastermind_. Because of the nature of my work, I get to follow a lot of different cases quite closely. After much evaluation and analysis, I generally decide the next steps for those cases, whether to let the police handle it, or take it into our own hands.”

 

“How do you make such decisions,” asked Marco, “and what if you’re wrong?”

 

“It is a big decision to make and we only make it after we have reliable sources of information that our target is indeed guilty,” said Tomáš seriously, “Woj has been of massive help. I recruited him personally. He’s been able to get inside information for us from a lot of criminal organisations. If the case has concrete evidence, we usually leave it to the police. But sometimes, the witness has been silenced or the evidence has been destroyed before they can be presented in court. This is actually the case with Andrei Abramovich’s human trafficking business. Other times, the criminals are wealthy enough to hire top-class defence lawyers who are experts at using loopholes of law to their advantages. In those cases, the police can do nothing more and we have to decide if we need to step in.”

 

“We cannot and should not deal with every single case like that,” continued Arsène, “It’s impractical and bit of an overkill. It can also put our department in danger. So if the case is a one-time incident, we generally do not act but keep a watchful eye on the perpetrator. But if we believe the criminals are likely to commit another crime, or belong to an organisation with its own agenda, we do not hesitate to stop them. We have to put public interest before our personal safety and reputation.”

 

“My job is to make sure that the information I provide is accurate,” smiled Woj, “Naturally, my codename is _the Source_. It was actually Lewy who put me in contact with Tomáš.”

 

“I joined the group a long time ago,” said Lewy and Marco snapped his head around so fast he almost broke it, “I’ve always wanted to do something like this, when I realised that sometimes justice comes with a price and a sacrifice from your part. My specialty,” he hesitated, but continued anyway, “is the final execution. I suppose that’s why they call me _Satan_.”

 

Marco didn’t say a word. He had long known or suspected that something like this might happen but to actually hear Lewy confirm it was a completely different story. He could no longer cling on his desperate hope that it was all just a misunderstanding. It was very much real and the truth hurt him so much.

 

“I work along the same line as Lewy,” said Alexis, “Of course, I do all the IT stuff for the department when necessary. But my other specialty is short-range weapons. I usually team up with Lewy on our missions. My codename is _the Hitman_.”

 

“I did suggest Geek,” sniggered Olivier, “Much more appropriate in my opinion. But the pompous git didn’t like it and hacked my computer in revenge. I had to give in because I was so sick of not being able to use my computer because it was playing porn videos nonstop every time I opened it.”

 

“I thought you liked it so much that you couldn’t move away from your computer for a whole week, _Pretty Boy_ ,” sneered Alexis maliciously, “You had to give in because you fear you’ll have nothing left for Mesut.”

 

Olivier’s face turned green amongst everyone else’s laughter. Mesut looked half amused half resigned. Marco made a mental note never to offend Alexis.

 

“So,” laughed Kehli, “your codename is _Pretty Boy_?”

 

“Yes,” said Olivier grudgingly, “I didn’t want it but do I have a choice? Those prats vote on it and I’m stuck with it forever.”

 

“I have to agree with them,” said David smiling, “It’s quite a good name. So your job is to…”

 

“I provide information to the group,” said Olivier, “I keep them updated on any new progress made by the police. Sometimes, if Woj needs some help with his sources, I lend my hand, either as a police officer to scare them, or go undercover as a pretty face idiot to get more information from them. But my main responsibility is damage control. If something goes wrong, it’s my job to make sure my team don’t get caught. Neven kind of works in the same area.”

 

“Quite right,” nodded Neven, “my teammates, especially those directly involved in the action like Lewy and Alexis, run a lot of risks. If they’re ever hurt, they come to me. I take care of their wounds and come up with an alibi for them if necessary.”

 

“We all owe our lives to Neven,” said Alexis seriously, “If there’s anyone in the group you don’t want to mess with, it’s Neven. He’s _the Angel_.”

 

“I’m the newest addition to the group,” said Héctor, “I don’t really like my codename either but I’m sure it will change. My job is to infiltrate the enemy by pretending to be a young innocent boy. People are less likely to suspect me because of my age and supposed inexperience. So they’re much more willing to accept me into their circles and sometimes they talk about things in front me without even realising it.”

 

“ _The Kid_ has probably the most dangerous job,” said Arsène as he patted Héctor on the back and ruffled his hair affectionately, “We have used beautiful female agents in the past but our enemies seemed to have grown used to this strategy. So we had to change tactics and started recruiting young male agents with the right look and background. So far, it has worked quite well for us and Héctor is probably the best. It is a very difficult task though, involving a lot of danger and sometimes unwanted attention. We’re all very grateful for the sacrifices of Héctor and those like him.”

 

Marco thought of Héctor and his involvement with Andrei Abramovich. He wondered how Héctor had managed to go through with it. He doubted that Héctor actually liked Andrei Abramovich enough to endure such an intimate relationship with him. In fact, he didn’t even know if Héctor was gay. If in fact, for whatever strange reason, Héctor did develop some sort of attachment with Andrei Abramovich, it must be an awful ordeal for him to let the others kill Abramovich. Marco suddenly understood what Lewy meant by “Justice comes with a price and a sacrifice from your part”. Despite his current internal turmoil, Marco felt a sudden surge of sympathy and admiration for Héctor.

 

“As for me,” said Iker, “I’m part of the department but not with this group. So I won’t tell you too much about my role. All the groups report to Arsène, _the Boss_.”

 

“So Mesut you’re not…” asked Marco. Mesut shook his head and smiled serenely, “I’m not. Never has been. I have long known Olivier belongs to a secret group but I have never asked him. I know he’s a good man and we share the same beliefs and ideals. So I trust him not to do anything wrong and immoral. That’s all I know and that’s all I need to know.”

 

“But you pretended to be ill,” cried Marco, “I thought you were covering for Olivier.”

 

“I did pretend to be ill because Olivier needed me to,” said Mesut calmly, “I didn’t know why, okay, I might have guessed. But I didn’t ask because I didn’t need to know. I trust him so I will help him in any way possible.”

 

“Mesut and I have this unspoken understanding,” said Olivier, sounding very serious and very grateful, “I didn’t want to tell him anything because I fear for his safety. The job I’m doing is a dangerous one. I’ve heard stories of some agents who had their whole family slaughtered by their enemies in revenge, or have their loved ones tortured to death to get information on them. I don’t want any of that to happen to Mesut, ever. The less he knows, the safer he will be.”

 

Arsène nodded gravely, “We have tried our best to offer top-level protection for the family members of our agents but sometimes tragedies like that still happen. That’s why we never allow the significant other or close family members of our agents to join us. It’s too much risk and too potentially devastating for the family to have two agents from the same family. We also allow the agents to quit at any time, for any reason. It’s not a binding contract.”

 

“So the case of Andrei Abramovich,” said David slowly.

 

“Alexis changed the server time of Marien Klinik,” said Olivier quickly, “when Marco came to ask for my advice, I fed him a bunch of codswallop. Not that you can find any evidence anyway. Alexis wiped out the server log long before you lads came up with the theory.”

 

“And I provided you with false information about Tomáš facetiming me too,” said Woj, smiling apologetically at Marco, “Tomáš did facetime me but I have also changed the timezone of my mobile temporarily to change the time of the facetime call.”

 

“Brilliant,” muttered Marco, “I’m being fooled by almost everyone, people that I trust would not lie to me.”

 

“Marco,” said Lewy suddenly and Marco closed his eyes for a second. He still wasn’t sure how to face Lewy right now but he knew he had to give Lewy the chance. When he opened his eyes however, he saw the others looking at them shiftily and turned their heads away even faster, pretending that they didn’t notice anything unusual going on between Lewy and Marco. In fact, Shinji seemed to be the only one out of the loop. He looked rather confused and opened his mouth. Before he could say a word though, İlkay grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him away. So finally, Marco was face to face with Lewy.

 

“Yes?” said Marco tentatively.

 

“I need to speak to you,” said Lewy seriously, “in private. I owe you an apology and an explanation.”

  
Before he could elaborate on his explanation and apology however, David interrupted them, “Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve just received texts from Aleks, and Kun and Vinnie. Both have found something interesting about the cases. We need to talk to them now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I thought I could finish this fic in another chapter but I doubt it now. This chapter is mostly about explaining Lewy and the others' roles. As you can see, Lewy and co. are not some kind of gangster groups. They really are working towards the same goal as Marco and his friends.
> 
> I hope this also helps clarify that Marco is really not thick. He's just been blinded by love. I think he knoew deep down that something was not right with Lewy and Olivier. He just chose not to believe it because he's such a loyal friend and boyfriend. But when he discovered the truth, he was doubly hurt. It will take him a while to get over the fact. Not to mention that Lewy lives a very dangerous and quite ruthless life. But he was slowly beginning to understand the sacrifices Lewy and the others had made. So eventually he'll come around :)
> 
> I also hope you enjoy David's previous relationship :) I just couldn't resist.


	39. Case 6 - Our Choices Define Who We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team continued to make progress on the case. Marco accompanied Cesc to meet his sister. Héctor and Cesc had a little talk.

“We have a case?” Marco blurted it out before he could stop himself so he could hardly blame David for rolling his eyes.

 

“Honestly Marco,” said David half resigned half exasperated, “I know your personal life is a mess right now. But we do have to work on the case to bring Mourinho down remember? Actually, do you still remember who Mourinho is? Tall, dark, angry-looking prat?”

 

“I’m not retarded David,” hissed Marco angrily, “Of course I know who Mourinho is. Don’t be so smart otherwise you’ll turn into Olivier. But…” he hesitated, “where is, eh, Mourinho?”

 

“He’s been detained of course,” said Kehli quietly, “Based on the information we have, we can probably keep him for 48 hours. But we need to find more real evidence before we can detain him any longer.”

 

“Is he cooperating?” asked Lewy, all his attention focused on the case now.

 

Kehli shrugged, “Mourinho is not stupid. He hasn’t done anything that may incriminate him any further. He’s calm, dignified, and silent. Gave Cesc a nasty look when they bumped into each other in the hallway but that was it. He refuses to utter a single word. The only thing he’s ever said is to request his lawyers’ presence.”

 

“Damn,” cursed Marco, “This is going to be tough.”

 

“Not if we have irrefutable proof,” said David confidently, “And now I have a feeling we will get it soon enough. Come on, let’s go have a chat with the lads from London.”

 

The first to join the video conference was Aleks, who waved at them lazily but didn’t smile.

 

“Don’t worry,” whispered Mesut, “It’s just Aleks. He’s trying to keep his mafia boss persona.”

 

“Diego sent his apologies,” said Aleks casually. For some reason he seemed pretty pleased with himself, which Marco thought was a very good sign. “He meant to join the meeting but he just couldn’t wait to go back to London to see his daughter again.”

 

The next to show up were two young officers who seemed like the exact opposite of each other. One of them was someone that Marco recognised right away. 

 

Tall, dark, and serious, the first officer reminded them of a rock, always solid, always dependable. His deep set eyes were the shade of deep brown, almost black. His face was impassive and calm, but he smiled when he saw David and Mesut in front of the camera. 

 

“So this is…” İlkay almost sighed. Before anyone could answer him though, the other officer nudged the first one out of the way and beamed at the camera.

 

This officer seemed a lot younger. Marco wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of his actual age, or the fact that he was beaming so brightly that you could see more of his white teeth than his merry black eyes. Marco only knew one person with such a radiant smile to match, who happened to be sitting next to Iker.

 

“Kun!” cried David and he half rose from his seat as if to greet the officer. Kun smiled even broader and waved enthusiastically at them all.

 

“Hola David, Mes, Joe, and Oli! And Aleks! Why so serious!”

 

Aleks rolled his eyes, “Come on Kun. How’s everything Vinnie?”

 

The other officer, Vinnie, nodded seriously and said, “Everything’s been pretty good here in London, Aleks. I hope everything is going well with you and you will be back with us soon. We’ve missed you, and you lads too.” He nodded to David, Joe, Mesut, and Olivier, who all smiled at him. Even Olivier seemed to a lot more serious and respectful now.

 

“So,” said Kehli and everything sat a little straighter, “I believe you have made some new progress with the case. Care to share it with us?”

 

“I’ll go first,” said Aleks, “since it won’t take too long. I have tracked down and apprehended Zlatan Ibrahimović.”

 

“Holy shit mate,” cried İlkay, “how did you do that?”

 

“I have my sources,” said Aleks smugly, “who gave me some very useful tips. But don’t mind how I did it. The key is, Zlatan Ibrahimović is in our hands now. Now I’m not an interrogation expert and he has refused to say anything to me. But I’m sure some of you can crack him?”

 

“Bring him to us,” said Tomáš earnestly, “and we will find a way to get him to talk.”

 

“Will do,” said Aleks briskly and he dropped off the call right away.

 

“We have even better news,” said Kun with the same big wide smile since his first appearance, “We have found Eden Hazard.”

 

“Brilliant!” Roman thumped his fist on the table enthusiastically. “Has he confessed his crimes?”

 

“I’m not sure if you could call them crimes,” said Vinnie carefully.

 

“Of course they’re crimes!” cried Marco immediately, “He was helping Mourinho. He hacked into our system to help André kill Löw! How could those not be crimes!”

 

“It’s Marco, isn’t it?” asked Vinnie thoughtfully. Marco nodded but didn’t say anything. He didn’t really like question, much less the unspoken words from Vinnie.

 

“I do not deny what he has done,” said Vinnie evenly, “Nobody can. The proof is irrefutable. I’m not saying that Mr Hazard’s trying to either. But can you call it crime if the one who did it was not aware of the full implication of his actions.”

 

“So you’re saying that he didn’t know what he was doing or what it was for?” said Marco incredulously, “How is this possible?”

 

“Actually,” said Cesc slowly. Everyone turned to look at him, which almost made him jump. In fact, Cesc looked rather like a deer in the highlight, quite literally with his big round eyes and slightly scared face. Iker moved slightly closer to Cesc. Sergio threw Cesc a deathly look before scooping even closer to Iker. 

 

“Yes Cesc?” asked David in a calm soothing tone and Cesc relaxed visibly, “I was just saying, it’s quite possible in terms of Eden. He’s really a…” Cesc frowned, trying to find the right word.

 

“Geek?” offered Olivier helpfully.

 

Cesc shot Olivier a reproachful look but sighed. Apparently he couldn’t find any better word either, “Eden lives in his own world. The only things he cares about are the puzzles he wants to solve. He doesn’t ask people why they want his help because he doesn’t care. He’ll buy any kind of lame excuses, as long as the problem is interesting enough.”

 

“That must be what has happened then,” beamed Kun, “Eden told us that Beatrix contacted him to place a bug on Gabriela Costa’s phone. She said that she was trying to collect evidence of her husband cheating on her so she could get a divorce. So Eden agreed to help her. He said he didn’t think too much about it because Beatrix said that she got his contact information from a common friend.”

 

“Who’s the common friend?” asked Erik.

 

“Lena Gercke.”

 

“Pep Guardiola’s campaign manager?” asked Mesut in surprise.

 

“Isn’t she the one who told Beatrix about Neymar and Miss Costa?” cried Olivier.

 

They all looked at each other. Now things were becoming clearer and clearer.

 

Tomáš turned to ask Kun, “Did Eden tell you how Beatrix got his contact information from Lena Gercke?”

 

Kun shrugged, “He said that Beatrix got it from Lena’s laptop. Eden and Lena seemed to be pretty good mates. Apparently Lena forgot to lock her laptop and the chat window between him and Lena was still open. So Beatrix wrote down his info and contacted him. That’s what Beatrix told him anyway.”

 

“You’re sure he’s telling the truth?” asked İlkay skeptically.

 

“I am sure,” said Vinnie simply. When İlkay opened his mouth again, David cut him off, “That’s all the reassurance we need Vinnie. Thanks.”

 

“Where is this Lena Gercke now?” asked Shinji.

 

“We need to find out. Woj,” said Kehli, “run a background check on Lena Gercke. Find out how she could possibly be connected to Mourinho or Abramovich. We need the info and her whereabouts asap.”

 

“So,” asked Marco once Woj had left, “what about André? How did he convince Eden to hack into our system?”

 

Kun and Vinnie looked at each other. Kun’s smile faltered for the first time and Vinnie looked slightly uncomfortable.

 

“What is it?” asked Mesut alarmed.

 

“Fine,” muttered Kun, “It’s kind of stupid really. But André told him that he left something in the CID and needed to get in there to get rid of it. Otherwise he’d lose his job.”

 

“What the heck could he have left there that would cost him his job?” asked Kehli incredulously.

 

“Apparently he told Eden that he had left some homemade porn in the office,” there was a slight blush on Kun’s face. Everyone gaped at him. “He said that he couldn’t remember where he last put it but he couldn’t afford it to fall into the hands of say, Roman. So he asked Eden to turn off the monitoring system of the CID so he could sneak in and find it. Eden and André are friends so Eden had agreed to help him.”

 

“This,” said David after a spell of silence, “is the most ridiculous yet somewhat plausible excuse I’ve ever heard of.”

 

“Quite,” said Roman, who seemed personally offended by André’s excuse, as much as his betrayal. “Thank you very much officer Agüero and Kompany. Could you send us the report of your conversation with Mr Hazard?”

 

“Absolutely, with pleasure,” Kun nodded enthusiastically.

 

“And we’ll ensure his safety,” said Vinnie calmy before Roman would even ask, “We will deliver him to you safe and sound if you need him to testify.”

 

“Brilliant! Thank you again!”

 

“So,” said Kehli once the video conference was over, “Woj is working on Lena Gercke. I believe he could use some help.”

 

“Joe and I will work with him,” volunteered David and Kehli nodded his approval, “Excellent! Now everyone else, I’d rather you take a good rest. It’s been a long night. We will attempt another conversation with Mourinho in the morning.”

 

“Kehli It’s already morning,” said İlkay briskly, “We should get to work, rather than wasting our time on trivial things like sleeping.”

 

Kehli sighed, acknowledging defeat, “I know nothing can stop you İlkay. But for anyone who wants to take a rest, we have some extra beds for you to crash in the office. Marco, you will go get some sleep.”   
  


“But Kehli,” protested Marco.

 

Kehli came and wrapped his arm around Marco’s shoulder, “You have been through a lot tonight Marco. You need to rest so you can get your strength back. No,” he raised his voice slightly at the defiant look on Marco’s face, “you’re upset and hurt, rightfully so. You need time to think it over, to clear your mind and calm yourself down before you can work on the case. We have enough hands here. I want you to be happy Marco. We all do. So go get some sleep, now.”

 

So Marco went to lie down in one of the bunk beds and drifted into an uneasy sleep. His body was tired but his mind just couldn’t stop working. Men with no faces kept showing up in his dreams. Marco felt that he was looking for someone but that someone had his back turned to him the whole time. Marco was calling for him, desperate to see his face. But he was scared at the same time, scared of what he might find out.

 

Marco woke up with a sudden start and found himself face to face with a fidgety Cesc. “What the hell Cesc?”

 

“I’m so sorry!” cried Cesc, looking even more uncomfortable now, “But I, er, I need your help.”

 

“What?” said Marco confused, his mind still foggy.

 

“I want to visit my sister,” said Cesc nervously, “to make sure she’s alright. Kehli wouldn’t let me go by myself, said it’s too dangerous. So he asked me to find you to escort me there. I promise it won’t take too long.”

 

Marco found it quite hard to say no to the pleading eyes of Cesc. So he nodded and they left wordlessly to Carlota’s flat. Once they were outside however, Cesc seemed hesitant.

 

“What’s wrong?” asked Marco perplexed.

 

“Do you think she’ll forgive me?” asked Cesc in a low voice.

 

Marco raised an eyebrow, “You’re going to tell her everything?”

 

Cesc chewed on his lips and said, “I think I should. After all that I’ve done, I owe her that much.”

 

When Carlota saw Cesc, she cried happily, “Cesc!” and threw herself in her brother’s arm. Cesc smiled for the first time and they exchanged greetings in rapid Catalan. Carlota was however, surprised to see Marco, as she turned to Cesc and asked in confusion, “Cesc, is this…?”

 

“Officer Marco Reus with the Dortmund Police,” Marco offered his hand, “We’ve met before and I have talked to you about Gabriela Costa.” Cesc’s face paled at the mention of Gabriela Costa’s name.

 

Carlota nodded slowly, “I do remember that. But I’m just…” she turned to look at Cesc, “a little surprised that you’re acquainted with my brother.”

 

Cesc sighed, “It’s a long story Carlota. Why don’t we go inside and talk about this in detail?”

 

Once they were inside Carlota’s flat, Cesc hesitated. Marco understood immediately and said, “You too haven’t seen each other for a while and must have a lot of catch up to do. I can keep myself entertained in the kitchen with some tea if you don’t mind.”

 

So Marco went into the kitchen to give Cesc and Carlota some privacy to talk. He couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying but he didn’t mind. He knew it must be a painful conversation and quite frankly, he had had enough on his plate that he could do without some extra helpings from Cesc. The conversation went a lot smoother than Marco had anticipated though, as he had not heard any raised voices or shouting for a good half an hour. He was beginning to relax, thinking that Carlota must have accepted the fact until...

 

“Ouch,” Cesc’s cry was accompanied by a dull sound that sounded suspiciously like a fist making contact with a piece of flesh.

 

Once Marco had rushed into the living room, he was greeted with Cesc clutching his face and a seething Carlota standing next to him. 

 

“Cesc are you alright?” cried Marco.

 

“Of course he’s alright!” spat out Carlota, “You should be more concerned about those who have lost their lives or loved ones because of him! My own brother, an accomplice to god knows how many crimes! One of them involves my friend! Gabriela died partly because of him! And I played a part too. If I hadn’t accepted the offer of that wretched bastard, Cesc wouldn’t have the excuse to visit Dortmund and…”

 

“This isn’t your fault at all Miss Fàbregas!” Marco interrupted Carlota’s frantic muttering firmly, “In fact, you have contributed to the case because it was Cesc’s love and concern for you that drove him to us. Without him, we’d still be in the dark and couldn’t possibly apprehend Mourinho. Rest assured that Mourinho will be brought to justice and your friend will be revenged. I give you my word.”

 

Carlota looked at Marco in silent for a while before sighing, “Thank you officer. But please forgive me for asking you to leave now. I simply cannot deal with it right now.”

 

Marco nodded, “Of course Miss Fàbregas. I understand completely. I’m sorry to have bothered you but your brother wants to make sure you’re fine and safe. We’ll see ourselves out.”

 

Once they were outside Carlota’s flat, Marco turned to look at Cesc, who was surely showing some early signs of a spectacular black eye, “Do you think she’ll forgive you?”

 

Cesc gave him a weak smile, which sooned turned to a grimace due to over-exertion of his face in his current situation, “Not any time soon but I think she will eventually. She’s my baby sister and she loves me more than anyone else in the world. I suppose that’s why she’s so disappointed and angry. The more you love someone, the less you can handle their betrayal. But eventually you forgive them because you love them, not just for the good part, but for the bad part in them too. I’m not sure how long…” Cesc suddenly stopped mid-sentence and his facial expression had turned from serious to a dreamy trance.

 

“What the…” asked Marco but as he turned around, he had discovered the source of Cesc’s transformation. Sure enough, Daniella Semaan, or commonly known as “the Hag” to the officers at the CID, thanks to İlkay, was making her way out of her flat, bringing a strong whiff of perfume with her into the hallway.

 

“Hello,” said Cesc with an expression that could only be described as puppy-ish in Marco’s opinion, “my name is Cesc Fàbregas.”

 

“Oh,” simpered Daniella, who might have blushed though it was hard to tell due to her excessive use of heavy makeup, “Hi, my name is Daniella.” She batted her eyelashes at Cesc, who seemed to have temporarily lost his ability to speak.

 

“I, er, wow,” gasped Cesc, “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

 

Daniella giggled, which was quite alarming in Marco’s point of view, considering her current age, and said in a honeyed tone, “The pleasure is all mine Mr Fàbregas,” with particular emphasis on the word pleasure. Cesc made a strangled noise in his throat.

 

Marco had to intervene. He felt that he might become sick if he didn’t do it now. “Cesc we need to go.”

 

“What?” asked Cesc absentmindedly, his eyes still fixed on Daniella. 

 

“Now!” bellowed Marco.

 

“Yeah, right,” said Cesc, having finally come back to earth. He pulled out a piece of paper and pen and hastily scribbled down his number, “Here,” he thrusted it to Daniella’s hand, lingering a fraction too long, “this is my phone number. Please call me.”

 

“What the hell was that all about?” asked Marco once they were in the car.

 

“I think I’ve just found the love my life,” cried Cesc, his whole face lit up as if hit by a ray of purest sunlight, “Have you noticed her long shiny hair, her full lips, and her eyes. Oh her eyes, they are whispering to me, telling me her deepest emotions and desire.”

 

“Right,” said Marco, feeling that Cesc might have accidently hit his head on the floor today, “Just don’t tell İlkay any of this if you don’t want him to take the mickey out of you.”

 

Once they were back in the CID, they were greeted by an anxious-looking David.

 

“Zlatan Ibrahimović is about to arrive,” said David succinctly once he saw them, “Aleks is bringing him here. We need to get ready to question him.”

 

Sure enough, they saw Zlatan coming into the CID followed closely by Aleks. Zlatan looked his usual arrogant self despite his hands being handcuffed at his back. He gave the room an imperial look as if he were a king touring around his territory. But his smugness was soon replaced by outrage.

 

“You little piece of shit!” cried Zlatan when he saw Héctor sitting amongst the others and it took both Aleks and Joe to restrain him from attacking the little Spaniard. Héctor however, remained passive and calm. “You two-faced lying scumbag! I’ve told Andrei that you can’t be trusted. If he’d listened to me, I would’ve killed you long before you could betray him and sell him to the police. Traitor!” With that, Zlatan actually spat on the floor in utmost contempt. 

 

“I was never loyal to Mr Andrei Abramovich,” said Héctor coolly, “There’s no betrayal to speak of.”

 

“He trusted you!” cried Zlatan, “He saved your worthless life when I was about to kill you! You say this is not betrayal?! I wish I was faster that day and had finished you off before anyone could come to your rescue, you worthless self-righteous…”

 

Héctor’s face paled. Marco could understand why though. If what Zlatan said were true, which judging by Héctor’s reaction seemed to be more than true, Héctor did owe his life to Andrei Abramovich, a supposedly heartless criminal who made his fortune by exploiting others’ weakness and ruining their lives. Yet he seemed to truly care for and trust Héctor, which had eventually led to his downfall. Fortunately, Tomáš came to the rescue.

 

“Mr Ibrahimović,” said Tomáš calmly, “Could I have a private word with you, if you don’t mind?”

 

Everyone looked at Tomáš as if he had just lost his mind. Tomáš however, seemed perfectly composed and was waiting politely for Zlatan to collect himself.

 

“Fine.” grumbled Zlatan, who had managed to shake off Aleks and Joe despite his limited range of motion.

 

“Please,” Tomáš extended a polite hand, “after you.”

 

Once Tomáš and Zlatan were out of sight, Marco turned to Héctor, “Are you alright?”

 

Héctor gave Marco a forced smile, “I’m still alive am I not? I have done everything I can to survive and here I am. What a triumph!” 

 

“Héctor!” cried Marco in alarm. He didn’t like the fake shallow smile on Héctor’s face at all. “This isn’t your fault. Andrei Abramovich was a, a…” Marco struggled to find a word strong enough to condemn Andrei Abramovich and to bring Héctor out of his guilt.

 

“Whatever he was, he did save my life,” said Héctor in a low whisper, “And I did betray him to accomplish the mission. Ibrahimović was right. It will be on my conscious forever.”

 

“Oh Héctor,” said Marco helplessly. He didn’t know what to say now. He understood perfectly well why Héctor felt this way but there was nothing he could do to help the young man who looked absolutely miserable now. Marco hesitated. He had this burning question he needed to ask but he felt like a senseless git if he did. Héctor seemed to have read his mind, “Go ahead Marco, just ask.”

 

“Okay,” said Marco a little uncomfortably, “I’m just wondering, are you gay?”

 

Héctor was silent for a while before he said, “To be quite frank I’m still not sure. I have once loved someone, a boy. He’s the only one I have ever loved so I don’t know if I am naturally attracted to blokes or if I just happen to love a boy. But I don’t think it matters now. My personal feelings are not important anymore. Once you’re on the mission, you forget about your emotions, your thoughts, anything that’s you. You’re not you anymore. You’re just a machine. You’re part of something bigger.”

 

“But…”

 

“Do you know why Lewy was called  _ Satan _ ?” asked Héctor in a low voice and Marco shook his head, fearing the answer. “It’s because everyone he has killed was convinced that they were going to hell when the last thing they saw in this world was Lewy’s face. Now don’t get me wrong,” added Héctor hastily, “Lewy is not a cruel person. He never tortures people and he only kills those who really deserve it. But his heart has been hardened, by his tragic past and all the ones he has killed, even though they were all done in the name of justice. When he’s out on a mission, he’s ruthless and daring. Sometimes I feel that he doesn’t really care for his life at all. When he’s not on a mission, he puts on a mask that has lured so many under his charms. But we all know he’s messed up. I mean, how could he not be? All of us who work at the front line, me, Alexis, Lewy, we all joined the group for a reason and it’s not just because of our beliefs in the noble cause. But Lewy has changed after he’s met you. He’s changed so much. It’s like, he’s finally human again. He has actually learned to smile, not just with his mouth, but with his eyes. He has learned compassion and kindness, even to our enemies. Alexis told me that Lewy even promised Van Gaal to protect his family so he could die in peace. It’s all because of you Marco!”

 

“I don’t know!” said Marco feeling very distressed, “I know what he’s been through but still, he has killed so many people and will go on to kill more. No matter how much they deserve to die, he’s not…” he hesitated, almost stuck for word, “not…”

 

“Not whole again…” whispered Héctor. Marco looked at him and he grimaced bitterly, “Trust me I know.”  

 

“Héctor,” said Marco helplessly.

  
“All I want to say is,” said Héctor a little louder this time, “It’s our choices that define who we are. Alexis told me this after the case of Diego Costa and I can’t agree more. Diego chose to kill innocent girls because of his tragic past. But Alexis came from a similar background and he chose a completely different path. So think about your choices, Marco. Will you choose to open your heart to trust and love, or would you choose to close it to run and hide? Moreover, your choice affects not only you, but also Lewy. Your choice will define who he will be. So please, think about it carefully.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooo sorry it took me that long to update. The past two weeks have been crazy with my birthday, Lunar New Year, a new chap I'm dating, etc. But hopefully this chapter is long enough to make up for a missed update.
> 
> I'm not sure if there will be an update next week either. I'm going to Hawaii for 10 days so I doubt I'll be able to write. The next one might be the final chapter so I want it to be good :)
> 
> I've purposefully postponed the talk between Marco and Lewy because I feel that Marco needed more persuasion from his friends to relent. He has his own strong beliefs so it will take him a while to accept Lewy, who needs to make his choice too. I hope this makes sense and isn't too boring for you.


	40. Case 6 - Saved by an Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zlatan recounted the story of his past. Mats and Mario came to help their friends. Lewy made a very important decision.

Half an hour later, Tomáš walked out of the room with a calm yet satisfied smile, followed closely by a pale-faced Zlatan. Olivier let out a sigh of relief and everyone looked at them expectantly.

 

“Can somebody unlock the stupid handcuff?” asked Zlatan impatiently, who seemed to have regained some of his bravado and bad temper rather quickly, “My story will be long and I'd rather be comfortable while I'm at it.”

 

Kehli gave Tomáš a questioning look. Tomáš smiled and nodded, “Zlatan has promised me that he would not do anything foolish.”

 

“I joined a, er, brotherhood when I was a teenager,” said Zlatan, after Mesut had unlocked his handcuff, albeit his obvious hesitation, “I was never good at school or anything else and I grew up in a poor family. But I'm a good fighter and quite a natural with weapons. So that was the easiest way for me to make enough money to support my family. When I was 20, I met Helena, the only woman I have ever and will ever love. She's a lot older than I am, but also a lot wiser and kinder. She didn't like my job but because she loves me too much, she accepted it and we got married. I promised her that I'd quit after I had saved enough money for our family. A couple years later, we had a kid, which made me want to quit more than ever. Unfortunately this is not a business where you just hand in your resignation letter and walk out. I was a valuable member of my brotherhood and I knew too much of their secrets. When I tried to leave, they didn't like it, not at all. Instead of punishing me however, they got Helena and the kids. They were threatening to torture them if I didn't come back to them. But I knew them too well. Even if I did go back, they'd never trust me again and they'd still find an opportunity to get rid of me and my family. So I was at a complete loss what to do. That was when José came to the rescue. He had somehow managed to get my family out before he destroyed the brotherhood. I could not describe how I felt when I saw Helena and the kids standing in front of me, scared but unharmed. I knew at that moment that I'd be forever in José’s debt. So I took up his offer to found my own brotherhood, because after all, this is what I do best. Besides, with José’s protection, I knew that I'd be a lot safer and so would my family. Ever since then, I've been working with José. He has also introduced me to Roman and Andrei. Whenever I'm in trouble, they can usually get me out. Whenever they need me for something, I do their bidding without a second thought.”

 

“What have you done for him,” asked David, “apart from shooting Alexis?”

 

Zlatan shrugged, “anything José asks of me really. I ambushed you lot outside Van Gaal’s house. José told me to either capture you alive or expose your identity to a witness. I have also managed to get Neymar to Dortmund.”

 

“It was you who got Neymar out of Spain?” cried Erik and Alexis together, Erik in surprised while Alexis in absolute fury.

 

Zlatan nodded, not at all bothered by the daggers Alexis had been throwing him, “José told me that the only way Beatrix would be seriously concerned was the presence of Neymar. Beatrix was never concerned about Gabriela Costa, who was both discreet and very private. But Neymar was a completely different story. He was on drugs, dealing on the side too, dangerous and reckless. He also didn't give a damn if Pep Guardiola won the election. Once he was in contact with Gabriela Costa, he became a timed bomb ready to explode at the slightest touch. Of course Beatrix Guardiola would go mental when she found out. All I needed to do was to get Neymar to Dortmund and then force him to find Gabriela Costa. Neymar turned out to be very easily persuaded. He didn't stand a chance in Barcelona and he still loved Gabriela Costa. So he jumped at the opportunity I provided him. Once he was here, I kicked him out quickly enough so he had no other choice but to find his ex-lover. When Lena mentioned this to Beatrix Guardiola in passing, she couldn't waste a second to take care of the situation.”

 

“Lena Gercke is working for Mourinho too?” asked Kehli.

 

“Well kind of. I mean she's not exactly involved,” said Zlatan, “all she needed to do was to pass some useful information to José and leak some information to Beatrix Guardiola. She put Beatrix Guardiola in contact with Eden I believe. She's a good actress. Beatrix Guardiola never suspected a thing.”

 

“So did José save Lena Gercke’s life too or something?” asked Lewy, sounding almost disgusted.

 

“No,” said Zlatan, “but her boyfriend Sami works for Roman.”

 

“Where is Lena Gercke now?” asked Alexis in a dangerous voice. Marco cast Alexis a quick look before turning his eyes on Lewy, who to his relief, looked focused yet calm.

 

“Disappeared for all I know,” shrugged Zlatan, “I don't think José told her exactly where her information would lead to. She must be under the impression that it would just cause a scandal to discredit Pep Guardiola so he couldn't run for the election. When she realised what had happened and what she had done, she panicked. As far as I know, she resigned the moment Beatrix was apprehended and left immediately. Sami went with her too. I have no idea who knows their whereabouts at the point. But that’s what José has wanted, for them to disappear and go into hiding so no one could find them. You'll be wasting your time trying.”

 

“We certainly will try,” said Joe firmly, “You never know. We seem to be in the habit of making miracles.”

 

After Kehli and Roman took Zlatan away for further questioning, Marco sought Tomáš out, “How did you persuade Zlatan to speak up?”

 

Tomáš gave Marco a long look before saying, “Zlatan Ibrahimović is a very proud and loyal man. He has, in his twisted morality, a sense of honour. You saw how he reacted towards Héctor earlier. He deemed betrayal and disloyalty the highest form of sin.”

 

“Then how did you…”

 

“But even Zlatan has something he holds more dear than his sense of honour, his family. I was able to get in touch with his wife Helena, who is a truly lovely lady. She has been deeply troubled by her husband’s, for lack of a better word, job. But she loves him too much to give up on him. Helena donated the majority of Zlatan’s money to the charity and she has pleaded many people’s case with Zlatan. In fact, I believe that Zlatan would be 100 times worse had it not been for the positive influence of Helena, who is basically the love of his life. When I found her, she was begging me to persuade Zlatan to see the light and cooperate with us. So that's what I've told Zlatan. I also told him that no matter what he says, Mourinho will be brought to justice because we have enough evidence to prosecute him already. So his silence, instead of buying the precious freedom for Mourinho, will only serve to incriminate himself further, practically eliminating any chance he might have of seeing his family again. And it will break Helena’s heart. So he finally gave in.”

 

“So he gave up his principle for her,” muttered Marco, more to himself than to Tomáš, “and she betrayed her own conscience for him.”

 

“Yes Marco,” said Tomáš kindly, “it's all for love, which is the most wonderful thing in the world. It's perhaps the only thing that everyone has in common. No matter how despicable one might be, he still has the ability to love someone or something. It is love that can change who we are. But it is complicated and a lot of times, love is a sacrifice too. So the question is, are you willing to make the sacrifice for the ones you love, so you can change them into a better person?”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After their little conversation, Marco found that almost everyone was gone, presumably busy working on the case, everyone except Lewy. He was standing resolutely next to Marco’s desk, his eyes determined and his jaws set. Tomáš patted Marco wordlessly on the back before disappearing into Kehli’s office. Marco took a deep breath but before he could say anything, Lewy started first.

 

“I'm really really sorry Marco, for not telling you my involvement with the group. I know how upset you are about this and you have every right to be mad. I am also sorry for hiding this part of me from you, so that you would not see me for who I really am, not just the good part, but the bad part too. But,” he hesitated before continuing, “I'm not sorry for who I am or what I've done for the group. Everything is done in the name of justice and we have saved many lives by doing the unthinkable.”

 

“Why?” cried Marco, his eyes almost filled with tears, “why do you have to do this and why didn't you tell me? You said that you were sorry for hiding your true self from me. That just makes the past couple months seem like a lie, a joke. I don't even know who you are!”

 

“It's not a lie!” cried Lewy and he took a step forward, his eyes locked with Marco’s, “I've shown you my true self, except that part. Everything else is true and my feelings for you are more than real and true! I love you Marco, more than I have ever loved anyone else. I used to think that I have lost the ability to love forever, until I met you. You're everything I'm looking for. You're bright, kind and fun. You have the highest moral standard for yourself and others. You have the sheer courage and determination to pursue what you believe in.”

 

“I don't feel very brave at the moment,” muttered Marco.

 

“That's because you think for yourself Marco,” said Lewy, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed, “Don’t you see Marco, you never let people tell you what to do. You believe in those things not because it's what everyone else does. You believe in them because it's from your heart, after careful consideration and thoughts. You're your own person and although you can be unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you make your own choice. That's why you're struggling now. Because despite what everyone else tells you, you need to come to terms with your own feelings and beliefs. Once you do, you don't doubt it. You pursue them with the fiercest determination because you're also an optimist. You believe in the good things in this world, like justice, kindness, and love. Whenever I'm around you, I couldn't help but have faith in the beautiful world you so ardently believe in. That's why I love you so much Marco. And that's why I can't bear to tell you. I care too much about you that I can't stand the thought that I'd lose you or damage your spirit.”

 

“What if you already have?” asked Marco in barely a whisper, “What if I'm no longer the determined, high-spirited optimist you've learned to love. What would you do then?”

 

“No I haven't,” said Lewy with such warmth and love that Marco felt his eyes growing wet again, “I was wrong. I've underestimated you. You're stronger than this, much much stronger. This may upset you for a while but it won't crush your spirit. So maybe it is my fear of losing you and cowardice that have prevented me from telling you the truth all along. But can you blame me? You're the light of my life. I can't lose you because once you know how beautiful it is, you could no longer go back to darkness.”

 

Marco was silent, thinking about what Lewy had said. Lewy waited patiently for Marco to collect his thoughts, which he was grateful for. Marco thought of all the things people had told him, David, Erik, Héctor, Cesc and Carlota, Zlatan and Helena. He also thought of all the good memories he had shared with Lewy and he knew they were real. Lewy did love him and he him. But he also thought about the people that Lewy had killed, without a trial or even mercy, of their families. He didn't dare to even think how many people had died at Lewy’s hand.

 

“I accept your apologies and I believe in your love for me. If I'm honest with myself, I love you very much as well,” said Marco slowly. Lewy’s face lit up at once, which made Marco feel bad about what he was about to say next, “But I cannot get past the fact that you have killed so many people, people who may not deserve to die. I'm not saying that they were innocent,” added Marco hastily at the look on Lewy’s face, “But do they all deserve to die, without a chance to even defend themselves? You've seen Zlatan today. He's a cold blooded bastard who has committed many crimes no doubt. But does he deserve death? Is it fair to deny him another chance at life when we know how much he loves his wife and how that might change him? You can lock him away for good if you want to protect the others. With Mourinho gone and Helena’s positive influence, Zlatan might turn into a decent bloke after all. But if he's killed, for whatever fine reason, everything is gone. Human nature is so complex that we never know what may happen. We do not have the right to take away a fellow human being’s life, not in this manner.”

 

Lewy gave Marco a long piercing look but Marco held his gaze without flinching. He had said what he had always wanted to say and it felt as if a big rock had been lifted off his chest. It was Lewy who looked away first.

 

“I understand what you mean Marco,” said Lewy in a low voice, “I do not deny that I've been quite ruthless before I met you. I've told you about Wiktoria. I joined the group because of my love for her and more importantly my desire to avenge her. I've been driven by hatred all those years. But you've changed me. I haven't killed anyone since I've met you.”

 

“But Van Gaal…”

 

“We never intended to kill him,” said Lewy hastily, “at least I never intended to. The plan was to force a confession from Van Gaal and send the recording to you lads. Van Gaal killed himself that night. I was too late to stop him. I swear that I've never killed anyone after I'm with you.”

 

“But eventually you will again won't you?” asked Marco sadly, “one day you will get a mission where you have to kill. What will you do then?”

 

Lewy didn't say anything. Marco didn't really expect him to though. “Think about it Lewy. We can't keep pretending that everything is going to work out fine. We both need to do some thinking and make some difficult choices.”

 

Before Lewy could say anything else, their little conversation was interrupted by Olivier, who crashed in and started shouting, “Caution everyone, especially those with wives and girlfriends, John Terry is coming to town!”

 

“Who?” asked Marco and Lewy in unison.

 

“John Terry!” said Olivier impatiently, “the famous, or I should say infamous lawyer. He works for Roman Abramovich and is a complete arsehole. I can't tell you how many times he has managed to get Roman what he wants by exploiting all the loopholes in the law you can think of.”

 

“Okay…” said Marco, “Arseholes all work for Mourinho and Abramovich. We know that already. But what's with the girlfriend and wife thing?”

 

“Oh didn't you know?” said Olivier sounding genuinely surprised by John Terry’s anonymity in Germany, “John Terry is a total womanizer. He once had an affair with the wife of one of his coworkers and it was the coworker who ended up leaving.”

 

John Terry turned out to be quite young for someone with such a bad and formidable reputation. He was by no means bad-looking, but Marco could tell that the smile on John Terry’s face did not reach his somewhat cold eyes. 

 

“Hello everyone,” said John Terry politely, “I am John Terry, Mr Mourinho’s lawyer. I would like to see my client now if that’s possible.”

 

Kehli nodded regally, “Follow me please Mr Terry.”

 

“We need Mats,” whispered İlkay, “The only thing to stop a big-headed lawyer is the presence of another one.”

 

“I’ve already called Mats,” said Neven evenly and Marco turned to look at him so fast that he almost sprained his neck. “We need his legal expertise here with or without John Terry’s presence.”

 

“Did Mats know?” hissed Marco as he grabbed Neven to a private corner.

 

“No,” said Neven simply, “Not until now anyway. I had told him everything when I talked to him earlier on the phone but he knew nothing about it before today. He may have suspected something though.”

 

“How did he react to your little piece of surprise then?” asked Marco. 

 

“Not well I must confess,” grimaced Neven, “Well, you’ll see him soon enough and I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Mats arrived however, he was not alone. He was in fact accompanied by Mario, who lost no time in rushing past the whole group of people to get to Marco.

 

“How are you?” asked Mario quietly as he pulled Marco into a tight embrace.

 

“Fine…” stuttered Marco, still shocked at his best friend’s sudden appearance, “Aren’t you supposed to be…”

 

“Forget about the games! You’re way more important,” said Mario earnestly, “Neven told me everything and I have to come the moment I know. You can’t be fine Marco. I know you can’t! How are you feeling?”

 

“I really am quite alright now,” said Marco genuinely. His voice came out a little muffled because Mario was still holding onto to him while patting him in an apparently soothing way. Lewy cleared his throat very audibly, which turned out to be a great mistake, for Mario seemed to have realised his presence.

 

“You bastard!” cried Mario, letting go of Marco at last, and lunged at Lewy before anyone could stop him, “You worthless, lying piece of shit! Marco…” his shouting was punctuated by the dull sound of fist making contact with flesh, “trusted…” another thump, “you…” Mario had to take a breath before continuing, for he seemed quite beside himself with rage, “Yet you lied to him you filthy scumbag!”

 

“Mario please,” cried Marco desperately while İlkay and the others sniggered at the situation. Lewy did not defend himself at all, which seemed to provoke Mario even further. “Come on you coward! Fight back!”

 

“Mario stop,” said Marco as he tried to hold Mario back in vain, “Mats, Neven, help me!”

 

Once they had managed to prise Mario off of Lewy, Kehli had to intervene, “That is quite enough gentlemen. I understand that you have personal matters to attend to but we’re in the middle of a very important case so please behave yourselves. Marco, take your friends with you and sort out whatever that needs to be sorted out between you. I do not want another fight in the CID so go, now!”

 

“What were you thinking?” asked Marco the moment they were alone, “You could seriously hurt Lewy.”

 

“Defending him, aren’t you?” said Mario shrewdly, “Well, I need to see for myself how he reacts to my provocation and more importantly, how you react.”

 

“You were punching him to get a reaction out of us?” asked Marco incredulously.

 

“Partly yes. But I am also very mad at him for what he’s done,” shrugged Mario, “Absolutely furious, for your sake. But forget about why I punched him. It is immaterial. All I want to know is, can you forgive him and can he make you happy.”

 

“This is ridiculous,” said Marco, “Did Mario learn all of these mind games from you Mats?”

 

Mats however, did not answer Marco’s question. He instead addressed Neven, “Is that why you agreed to split up with me when I brought it up?”

 

Neven looked away. It seemed as if he could no longer bare the burning looking from Mats. Mats however, didn’t give up, “Answer me Neven.” 

 

Neven sighed, “I joined the group when we were still together. Ever since then, I have feared not for my own safety but for yours. I would never be able to forgive myself should anything happen to you because of me.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me then?” asked Mats.

 

“Because I knew how much burden you were carrying at that time,” said Neven sadly, “I didn’t have the heart to add another. So I kept my silence, clinging onto the hope that maybe one day, things would work out between us. But when you came to me that day, telling me that you could take it no longer, I knew I had to let you go.”

 

“Would you have fought otherwise,” asked Mats in barely a whisper, “had it not been for your concern of my safety?”

 

Neven looked down at the floor, not meeting Mats’ eyes, “Does it matter now?”

 

“I just…” said Mats helplessly, so uncharacteristic of him that Marco had to look away, “I just need to know.”

 

“Yes,” said Neven, finally looking at Mats full in the eyes, “I would have otherwise. I loved you too much Mats. As long as there was a chance of hope, I would have fought for us. But when it came to your safety, I had to make the right choice.”

 

It was Mats who looked away this time, “If you did fight for it, I might have changed my mind to be with you, my safety and family be damned.”

 

Marco felt the wetness in his eyes. He chanced a look at Mats and was not surprised to find his eyes filled with tears. Neven on the other hand, had his eyes closed with a pained expression on his face. Mario’s eyes were round as saucers and he was sniffing loudly.

 

Mats was the first to recover, as he smiled sadly, “But you’ve got Erik now. Please tell me you’re happy with him.”

 

Neven’s face softened and his eyes brightened at the mention of his young lover’s name, “Indeed I am. Erik is simply amazing and I consider myself extremely lucky to find love again.”

 

“Well,” said Mats, “and I have Cathy now, whom I do love and will propose very soon. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go and meet Mr John Terry.” With that, Mats left them as quickly as he could, as if one more moment in this room would suffocate him.

 

“Neven,” said Marco helplessly but Neven raised a hand to stop him, “I’m fine. Knowing him, I’m sure Mats will be too. I’ll give you too some privacy so you can talk about the matter that concerns you.”

 

“Mario, do you think they’ll be okay?” asked Marco anxiously.

 

Mario sighed, “Eventually they will be, Neven more than Mats I suppose.”

 

“But it’s so unfair,” cried Marco, “They clearly still love each other. It’s all due to unfortunate circumstances that they can’t be together.”

 

“Maybe they’re not meant to be together,” said Mario wisely, “Do you realise how fortunately it is to meet the right person at the right time? When you do, don’t just give it up easily. I know you Marco. I’ve known you for all these years and I can tell that you’re madly in love with Lewy. More than you have ever been with anyone else. That’s why this whole thing upsets you so much. But remember, nothing is perfect in this world. Everything takes a bit of effort and work. As long as you’re certain of the key things, you can work it out between you. You love Lewy and though I hate to admit it, he loves you perhaps even more. You’re perfect for each other. So don’t throw it all away Marco. Don’t repeat the mistakes of Mats and Neven. By giving him another chance, you give yourself another chance at finding happiness.”

 

When Marco and Mario came back to the hallway, they found everyone gone, except Lewy and Arsène, who were engaged in a very serious conversation. Mario raised an eyebrow but said nothing. When Lewy saw Marco however, he hurried towards him.

 

“I was just talking to  _ the Boss _ ,” said Lewy seriously, “he has just accepted my resignation.”

 

“Your resignation?” cried Marco in utter surprise.

 

“Yes, my resignation,” said Lewy calmly, “from the group. I am as of this moment, no longer affiliated with the group.  _ The Boss _ has promised me that all documentation regarding my association with the group shall be destroyed.”   
  


Marco could hardly believe his ears, nor could he describe the emotions he was feeling at that moment. Next to him, Mario was smiling genuinely at Lewy for the first time. “Why did you do it?” asked Marco in a small voice.

 

“Because that’s the only way for me to win you back,” said Lewy simply, “You’re the most important thing to me Marco. I have to do everything I can to keep you. So…” he paused, suddenly looking very nervous, “will you forgive me for all I’ve done and have me back?”

 

Marco felt his eyes getting wet again, “If you’re sure then yes. But…” he hesitated, “Are you sure? Wouldn’t you miss it? I don’t want you to make a hasty decision and regret it later.”

  
“I am more than sure my dearest Marco,” said Lewy as he took a step forward to hold Marco firmly in his arms, “I joined the group with the hope that I may be saved. But I just realised that I don’t need it anymore, because I am saved by an angel, YOU.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray! I've finally finished this fic. I honestly still can't believe it. It's been quite a journey and I'd like to thank everyone who has read, commented and left kudos for this. I can't tell you how much those mean to me. I couldn't have done it without you!
> 
> This last chapter has been a bit hard to write. I'm trying very hard to justify Marco's hesitation and his change of heart. I do hope you find both convincing. The only way I could see it work between Lewy and Marco is for Lewy to give up his undercover job as Satan but I don't think he'll miss it terribly. As the title of the fic has indicated, Marco is kissed by the Devil while Lewy is saved by an angel.
> 
> I might write an epilogue, just to really end the fic. It's just a thought and I'll see if I have time for that and if people want to see one :)
> 
> Lastly, congratulations to City for winning the League Cup! First trophy this season!


	41. Epilogue - All was Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened 6 months later.

_ 6 Months Later _

 

“Come on Lewy,” cried Marco as he carefully navigated through the piles of documents in Lewy’s study, “we need to leave now or we’ll be late for the wedding!” 

 

“Just a minute,” said Lewy, still with his nose buried in the documents, “I’ll just check this…”

 

“Lewy!” Marco’s tone suggested that he was less than pleased with his boyfriend at this moment.

 

“Okay, okay,” said Lewy apologetically, throwing his hands in air in a gesture of surrender, “sorry about that. Let me get dressed now.”

 

“Mesut’s going to kill us,” muttered Marco grumpily as he plunked himself down on his favourite chair in the room, which he had frequently occupied since he moved in with Lewy, to watch Lewy change.

 

“Relax babe,” said Lewy. Marco’s attention was momentarily distracted when Lewy took off his T-shirt and threw it casually on to the floor. After all this time, Lewy still held the power to render him completely speechless without even trying. “It’s Olivier’s wedding we’re talking about here. I bet he’ll show up dressed in the most ridiculous clothes humanly possible, give Mesut a heart attack, and be forced to change into something sensible by David and Joe. That will cause all the delay in the world. Besides, Gelsenkirchen really isn’t that far away.”

 

“I just don’t want to be the last one to show up, regardless of whether Olivier shows up in a bathing suit or not,” pouted Marco.

 

Lewy actually stopped to contemplate the matter seriously, “You know what, I wouldn’t put it past him. But there will be loads of people from London, no? I’m sure we won’t be the last. Speaking of that, is Mats coming?”

 

“He can’t,” sighed Marco, “Still working on the case of Mourinho. I don’t understand why they keep on fighting a lost case but Mourinho simply will not give up. He said that he would appeal his case if the verdict turns out less than favourable but I’m sure we’ll triumph eventually. Poor Mats though. He has to see a lot of John Terry because of that.”

 

By the time they had arrived at the wedding venue, they were indeed one of the last ones to show up. Neven and Erik spotted them first, followed closely by Mario and Ann-Kathrin. 

 

“Why are you so late?” asked Erik, looking from Marco to Lewy, “Mesut asked about you when he stopped by to greet the guests. Then he went back to the bathroom to puke his guts out.”

 

“It’s all Lewy’s fault,” said Marco testily, “He had to leave all his work until the last minute.”

 

“My dearest Marco,” said Lewy half laughing, “I do have to work, quite hard mind you, to make sure we don’t starve you know? Besides, I don’t think Mesut will even remember when he’s being attacked by his nerves. So no harm done anyway, rig… Ouch!” Lewy clutched his face for Mario, who was standing next to him, had just punched him.

 

“Mario!” cried Erik and Marco in unison. Neven, on the other hand, was howling with laughter. Ann-Kathrin looked as if she wanted to pretend she didn’t know Mario.

 

“What was that for?” asked Marco.

 

“Sorry,” muttered Mario, “I’m so used to punching Lewy that I just reacted automatically. It’s sort of reflex really.”

 

“I applaud you for that Mario,” said İlkay, who had appeared out of thin air, along with Shinji and Kehli, “Keeps our lives so interesting.”

 

“Where’s Roman?” asked Mario, clearly eager to change the subject.

 

“Inside with Mesut,” said İlkay casually, “He said that he wanted to be there to provide moral support in a big moment like this, or some bullshit like that. I think he just wants to avoid Sergio.”

 

Sure enough, they could all see Sergio Ramos talking excitedly with Iker. Even from a distance, they could hear his voice, which was getting more and more high-pitched.

 

“For heaven’s sake,” mumbled Kehli, “someone needs to stop him before he completely loses control. And he’s not even had two drinks yet.”

 

“What can I say,” shrugged İlkay, “Sergio is a hopelessly romantic idiot who’s constantly on a sugar high. Besides, he’s been mate with Mesut for quite a while.”

 

Their conversation was temporarily interrupted by the appearance of Aleks, Alexis, Tomáš, and Héctor. Before they could finish exchanging pleasantries, they were joined by Cristiano and Irina, making the greeting process much longer. 

 

“How’s Mats doing?” asked Tomáš, “I assume that he’s otherwise engaged due to the case.”

 

Marco swallowed hard. He still found it hard to overcome the star-struck feeling he had every time Tomáš talked to him. For some reason, his opinion on Tomáš had never changed, even after learning that Tomáš was  _ the Mastermind _ behind all the missions of the group. Lewy raised an eyebrow and said, “Yes he’s still busy with the case. I bet he’s spending more time with John Terry than Cathy. Well, at least he has made sure John Terry never sees Cathy.”

 

Instinctively, Mario and Cristiano pulled their girlfriends closer to them. 

 

“Is that why Jürgen is talking to  _ the Boss _ now?” asked Neven.

 

Tomáš shrugged, “I doubt it because this case is in our bag. It’s just a matter of time and technicality before we win so  _ the Boss _ doesn’t seem to worry about it at all. I think they may have other things in mind, bigger plans.”

 

Neven, Alexis and Héctor all looked at Tomáš expectantly. Marco on the other hand, turn to look at Lewy instinctively. He couldn’t help himself from wondering from time to time whether Lewy had regretted his decision to leave the group and all the excitement associated with the missions. Lewy however, did not seem at all interested in whatever big plans Arsène and Jürgen might have. Instead, he looked perfectly content to be next to Marco.

 

“So who’s with Mesut and David now?” asked Lewy lazily.

 

“David is Mesut’s best man. So he’s with Mesut, making sure he doesn’t pass out from too much puking,” smiled Héctor, “Vinnie is also with him to give moral support. Oh, and Roman of course.”

 

“Olivier’s best man is Joe,” continued Alexis, “For whatever bizarre reason, Diego Maradona has decided to pay Olivier a visit right before the wedding… He took Kun and even Benji with him. Woj has decided to go with them partly because he wants to talk to Diego, partly because he needs to be there to help Joe contain the insanity level in that room.”

 

Erik shook his head laughing, “They have Olivier, a 6-year-old, and Diego who sometimes can be worse than a 6-year-old in the same room? This wedding is going to be a disaster that ends up with Mesut killing himself in humiliation.”

 

The wedding however, turned out to be quite perfect. Olivier, for once in his life, looked serious and a little anxious. He was wearing a simple blue suit that matched his eyes perfectly, with matching tie and white shirt. When Mesut walked out of the room, Olivier’s jaw practically fell to the ground. Despite looking a bit nervous and pale, Mesut smiled brightly at Olivier. His beige suits was tailored to perfection and Marco could not blame Olivier for drooling like a puppy. When Olivier held Mesut’s hand though, all the nervousness and anxiety were gone from them. They simply smiled at each other, looking positively radiant. In fact, Arsène, their wedding officiant, had to cough slightly to draw their attention away from each other back to the actual ceremony. Marco could hear İlkay sniggering in the background. Olivier apparently heard it too, for he winked at İlkay and walked down the aisle with Mesut. Their best men, Joe and David trailed behind them. In fact, if Marco didn’t know better, he would have thought that they were getting married too, for they were walking hand-in-hand and looking at each other in the same loving way. Marco turned to look at Lewy, who turned his head at that very moment to smile at Marco and put his hand on Marco’s.

 

The marriage vows were simple yet moving. Arsène read it in both German and French. Olivier responded loudly in fluent German while Mesut said in French, looking somewhat shy. Both Benji and Sergio sniffed loudly. Diego rocked Benji on his lap soothingly while Iker patted Sergio’s head. Roman looked as though he wanted to be sick.

 

Once the ceremony was over, the wedding became a little bit chaotic. Everyone went to congratulate the newly-wed and Olivier’s laugh became louder and louder with every drink he consumed. When Sergio walked towards them, Roman became so nervous that he tripped on his own feet and fell face forward into the wedding cake. Benji and Diego, who were standing next to Roman, shrieked with laughter while Kun and Joe were trying their best to prevent a seemingly inevitable cake fight. Sergio looked as though he really wanted to go and help Roman but was stopped wisely by Iker. They also found İlkay next to a champagne with an absolutely devilish grin on his face while adding something to the drink. 

 

“What the hell are you doing İlkay?” cried David, who had just broken off from the mad scene a little bit of cake on his face, looking slightly disheveled.

 

“It’s their wedding night, isn’t it?” grinned İlkay, “I’m actually helping them create an absolutely unforgettable experience.”

 

Further away from the centre, Neven and Erik were kissing with increasing fervour that drew the whistle of several onlookers including Alexis. Mario was sitting next to them with Ann-Kathrin and looked very uncomfortable. Ann-Kathrin however, looked on with great interest. Poor Mario had to clear his throats very loudly multiple times to regain his girlfriend’s attention.

 

Amongst all the commotion and noises, Marco could still hear Lewy’s clear whisper, “This will be us one day, I promise.”

 

Marco beamed at Lewy and sealed their fate with a kiss. The one thing he had learnt to understand was that you never knew what life held for you. You might be kissed by the Devil, but all could still turn out well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did write an epilogue! Hooray! I think this really wraps up this fic and I have to a big thank you again to anyone who has read, kudoed, and commented on the fic. It's been an incredible journey! I'll probably take some break after this but I'm playing with the idea of writing some extras for the London police officers of their time in London :) We'll see.


End file.
